The Hunting of the Jack
by Gallicus
Summary: When SG1 encounters something that only Major General O'Neill can help with, they quickly discover that Jack is not only missing from Washington, but that he is not who they thought he was... XOver: MacGyver & The Pretender
1. Past Sins

**The Hunting of the Jack**

begun 18-02-06 | completed: n/a

SUMMARY: When SG-1 encounters something that only Major General O'Neill can help with, they quickly discover that Jack is not only missing from Washington, but that he is not who they thought he was...

WARNINGS: Angst, AU (deviates after _Prototype_), Crossover, Drama, Romance

FEATURED PAIRINGS: Jarod/Miss Parker

SEASON: Season Nine

SPOILERS: **Stargate SG-1** — Anything up to 909 _Prototype_ is fair game, especially 106 _Cold Lazarus_, 215 _The Fifth Race_, 306 _Point of View_, 403 _Upgrades_, 405 _Divide and Conquer_, 410 _Beneath The Surface_, 606 _Abyss_, 713 Grace, 806 _Affinity_, 817 _Threads_, and 901 _Avalon_; **MacGyver **— the complete series and telemovies are fair game; **The Pretender** — the complete series and telemovies are fair game

DISCLAIMER: **Stargate SG-1 **and its characters are the property of Showtime, Sci/Fi Channel, MGM Television, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Film Corp. **MacGyver** and its characters are the property of Paramount, and ABC. **The Pretender** and its characters are the property of NBC, MTM, and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author.

THANKS: A big thank you to Karen Joy who worked hard as my Beta on this chapter.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm not American, so I spell some things differently and occasionally I may use a turn of phrase that is unfamiliar (to "hang fire" means to hold off on doing something for the present moment).

xxx

Theme Song: "Rock House Jail"

— Nick Glennie-Smith, Hans Zimmer, Harry Gregson-Williams [**The Rock** (Soundtrack), track 2]

xxx

"I was _never_ their age."

— Jack, "Proving Ground"

"Me, I'm on my last tour. Time to start getting my thoughts together, maybe write a book. You ever think of writing a book about your exploits in the line of duty?"

— Hammond

"Ah, I've thought about it. But then I'd have to shoot anyone that actually read it." /No laughter./ "That's a joke, Sir. Most of my work the past ten years was classified."

— Jack, "Children of the Gods"

xxx

There are PRETENDERS among us.

Geniuses with the ability to become anyone they want to be.

In 1957 a corporation known as the Centre isolated a young Pretender named Angus and exploited his genius for their research.

Then, one day, their Pretender ran away...

**ONE: Past Sins**

P6X-992

December 19th, 2005

1456 hrs

Lt. Colonel Cameron Mitchell paused in his check of the camp perimeter to look at what his foot had struck. Half buried in the soft earth was a rounded object. Crouching down Mitchell brushed away the dirt from the protruding part of the object to reveal that it was made of some sort of metal. Looking up from where he squatted next to the object Mitchell spotted Jackson several metres away, making careful notes of something on a wall of the complex that had be spotted by the UAV the day before.

Calling the archaeologist over, the pair set about working the soil carefully away from the object. Eventually enough was uncovered to allow Daniel Jackson to free it from the soil and heft it in one hand. It was about the size and shape of a melon, although made from an unidentified metal. Daniel speculated that it might be naquadah, but said that would have to be determined back at the SGC. There was a series of raised marking scattered about the surface of the object, markings that were the same as those marked on the walls of the complex.

Daniel was excited by the find, which left a silly grin on Mitchell's face. He'd only been with SG-1 for about half a year now and sometimes still felt like he had yet to earn his place on the team. Following the standard set by Major General Jack O'Neill was always going to be difficult, no matter who had been chosen for the team. Lt. Colonel Carter and Teal'c broke from their tramping of the complex perimeter and joined the two men in looking over the object.

"I think you're right, Daniel, it is made of naquadah." Carter was gently rubbing her fingers over the object as if understanding could be drawn from it by touching.

"And that is important?" asked Cameron of Carter.

"Is it not the same material the stargate is made from, ColonelCarter?" Teal'c interjected.

"It is, Teal'c, which suggests that this might be some sort of device created by the Ancients who built the stargate system. Do you recognise the markings, Daniel?"

"Some," grinned Daniel. "At a guess I'd have to agree and say this is almost definitely of Ancient origin, which would make this complex a possible outpost or the start of a potential colony. If we keep looking we may find others like this scattered about the area."

"What are the chances you could accidentally set it off?" asked Mitchell.

"Not likely," replied Sam. "You need to have the ATA gene to be able to use the technology. Even of those with it, not many can actually harness the gene for use."

"So is there anyone back at the SGC who could activate it?"

The other three members of SG-1 all gave Mitchell a hard look. Teal'c responded to the question first. "All personnel at the SGC are tested for the ATA gene upon joining the establishment. Those already identified with the gene were dispatched to Atlantis."

"So that's a no then?"

Daniel rubbed the back of his neck. "Not necessarily. The person who'd have the best chance at activating the device is in Washington."

At Cameron's blank look Carter added, "He's talking about Major General O'Neill."

Cameron touched the object. "He's got this ATA gene?"

"Indeed."

"So then all we need to do is request he come join us here on '992 and do his thing?"

"I guess," offered Daniel, somewhat uneasy at meeting a man who had called him friend, yet who he had ignored for the last five months.

"Okay then," said Mitchell enthusiastically as he failed to notice the mood of his three teammates, "You guys keep looking for more 'stuff' and I'll romp on back to the gate and ask then to send the old General through."

Then he was gone, marching through the deep scrub towards the stargate.

xxx

The three remaining members of SG-1 had rather awkwardly gone back to searching the ruins for more potential devices. None of them had been in contact with Jack since his transfer to the Pentagon to take over George Hammond's position as Head of Homeworld Security.

What made the whole situation so much more of a bitter pill to swallow was that the lack of communication was not the fault of Jack. In fact, the former CO of SG-1 had tried numerous times in the first two months after his transfer to make contact with the three of them.

There had been messages left on their answering machines, messages sent via the new CO of the SGC General Landry, and e-mails, the last proving that you could teach an old dog new tricks. Daniel chuckled to himself at the description of Jack as an 'old dog'. The older man probably would have put up a token protest about his age, but would have grinned all the same.

Saving the world on a regular basis meant that the three had never been at home or on base whenever he'd called, hence the messages on the answer phones. They generally found they were too tired or strung out to bother attempting to phone back, lest Jack be in a 'bouncy' mood and wanting to spar verbally with them. E-mails got lost amongst the spam and by the time they got round to checking their mail the message had usually been sitting idle for several days.

The longer they went without responding to his contacts the harder it became to try for fear of having to explain why they had essentially been ignoring him. Then three months ago, it had become obvious that Jack had 'taken the hint', even thought it was the wrong 'hint' to take. The phone calls, e-mails, and messages via Landry had ceased. Major General Jack O'Neill had given up trying to remain in contact when he had failed to get a single reply.

Daniel had wondered if perhaps they were subconsciously punishing the man for obeying orders. For leaving them at the SGC and moving away to Washington even though the man had had no choice in the matter having, according to Landry, his letter of retirement refused because it wasn't in the 'best interests of global security'. And the archaeologist wondered just what effect this estrangement was having on Sam. Before Jack's transfer, she had finally shed herself of the deadweight that was the Denver cop Pete Shanahan. Leading Daniel to believe she was finally going to conquer her fears and embark on a relationship with Jack.

Instead they'd said some stiff good-byes, Jack trying once again to reach out to her only to slam into her wall of fears. If she hadn't spoken or written to him since then, then Daniel felt that perhaps the potential relationship had died stillborn. Samantha Carter had put a good front, but when she thought nobody was looking Daniel had noticed that the loss of Jack from her life was tearing her apart. She knew what had to be done to fix the problem - talk to Jack, but her fears continued to hold her back as time marched on and she withdrew ever further into her shell.

The sudden loss of contact from Jack had been a blow to them all, and had at first proved to be something of a mobilising agent as all three of them were once again talking about the elephant in the corner of the room - their friendship with Jack O'Neill. All too soon they had been back off world and the elephant was once again ignored, lest it be disturbed and prove angry.

Now suddenly, Mitchell was putting into action a series of events that would thrust Jack back into their lives for the first time in five months and Daniel wondered if SG-1 could survive that encounter.

On the other side of the ruins, Teal'c stalked through the area, eyes like a hawk for signs of another Ancient device. He had already pushed the idea that O'Neill was returning to the back of his mind, unwilling for now to dwell on his own betrayal of his warrior brother by abandoning him on the unfamiliar, for O'Neill at least, battlefield of politics and diplomacy in Washington. Instead, the Jaf'fa was now focussed on events away from the Tau'ri that gave him concern.

There was something out there in the galaxy that hadn't been there a few short months ago. A threat that was potentially more dangerous than the Wraith, the Ori, and the Goa'uld put together if the reactions of the later two races were anything to go by. Representatives of the Free Jaf'fa that had visited Teal'c over the past months had brought report after report of a new power that had the Ori rethinking their strategies and many of the remaining System Lords on the run.

The one thing that had been consistent in the reports was that many of the worlds touched by this new force had once been home to the Ancients and perhaps whatever it was that was now on the prowl was gathering up the technology of the Ancients for its own use. Whatever it was that was out there, it had yet to turn its eyes to Earth, but Teal'c knew in his heart that is was only a matter of time before the Tau'ri homeworld fell under the gaze of this new power, due in part to the reputation the planet had acquired over the years thanks to the SGC. If the reports were true then it might just come to obtain the Ancient chair device at the outpost in Antarctica.

Thinking about the Ancients just drew the Jaf'fa's thoughts back to O'Neill and he didn't want to dwell on that for now. Thus, Teal'c shook the train of thought loose, and went to check another area.

Carter collapsed onto a rough, large stone that would serve as a seat for now. She just couldn't focus on the task at hand, not with the thought of seeing Jack again after five months of silence. Once she had seen clearly just what sort of self told lie she was buying into when she had accepted an engagement to Pete Shanahan, Sam had found it ridiculously easy to finally admit to herself that she was so deeply in love with commanding officer that there was no way she could share he life with another man.

Although Pete had loved her and had made an attempt to accommodate her needs in their shared life, she had eventually ended the relationship before her chances of backing out had ceased to exist. That her father had died at the same time had left her feeling very emotionally raw and vulnerable. Despite a few close moments with Jack while up at his cabin with the rest of SG-1, Sam had felt her walls beginning to go up again, just as strong as ever.

It was too soon she had told herself, too soon to visibly transfer her affection from her ex-fiancé to her commanding officer. She was too emotionally weak to sensibly weigh the various options to avoiding any stumbling blocks that stopped her and Jack from pursuing a relationship other than the Air Force one. He had reached out to her again and she had let her fear dictate her actions once again. Just as she had after the visit from the alternative Doctor Carter and Charlie Kawalsky, the incident with the armbands, the Zar'tac testing, and Jonah and Thera.

Each time she had retreated, as she was unable to deal with her emotions and afraid to risk what little she had in exchange for a nebulous possibility. So she'd kept him at arms length, pushing Jack even further away when she had dated and become engaged to Pete. Her hallucination of him on the Prometheus two years earlier had him saying he was a 'safe bet'. Jack had been, waiting patiently in the wings as she tried to understand what she wanted from her life.

By the time she left Pete she had worked out what she wanted. She had wanted him. Jack O'Neill. In her weakness, instead of reaching out and grabbing it with both hands Sam had said nothing and had let it slip through her fingers. Jack had been transferred away to the Pentagon and she hadn't lifted a finger to tell him what he meant to her. She was a coward, and the last five months had demonstrated that perfectly. Despite his attempts to bridge the physical distance and emotional walls between the two of them she had been unable to work up the nerve to contact him. Then he'd fallen silent three months ago. In her worst nightmares, ones that had her waking violently covered in sweat, that silence had meant only one thing. Her 'safe bet' had found someone else. She had waited too long and lost Jack.

Now her Jack was going to be coming back to the SGC. He was going to be off world with her once more. In her heart she knew this would probably be her last chance to explain to him just how she felt, that she was finally ready to sacrifice whatever other parts of her life she needed to in order to have him in her life.

xxx

The White House

December 19th, 2005

1545 hrs

President Hayes sat staring at the man in the chair opposite him.

"That is quite some story you have just spun me, Jarod. How much of it is true?"

"All of it, Mr President. The Centre had been at this research and exploitation since shortly after World War Two. They've managed to produce at least a dozen Pretenders in the years since, although not all of their attempts have been as successful as me."

"In what way?" the President questioned. Henry Hayes was intrigued at what he'd learnt, although another part of him was just as sickened by the treatment of the children and their families involved.

"Only a dozen over the last five decades have ever managed to escape the Centre complex to try and build normal lives. Those that didn't escape have not survived more than three decades inside, with the exception of the empath Angelo, as they didn't consider him a potential threat. Of those that did manage to escape, only myself and one other have managed to stay ahead of the Centre's sweeper teams."

"And now you are here."

Jarod nodded. "I was able to obtain enough information," Jarod held up a set of CDs, "that would enable the Centre to be closed down and those involved made accountable for what they have done."

"This is about revenge for what they did to you and your family then?"

A scowl marred Jarod's otherwise handsome face. "No, Sir. This is about being responsible for their actions. It is about my family being left in peace. It is about me being able to finally stop running and build a life of my own."

Hayes shuffled in his seat. "So if I give the go ahead to pull the Centre apart that means you and this other... 'Pretender' can stop running?"

Jarod nodded with a small smile. Perhaps things were going to go his way.

"I will allow this happen, Jarod, as long as I can suggest something to you."

"What suggestion?" The younger man was weary now. What sort of demand were they going to make in return for him being able to have a life.

"We have an organisation, a division of the Air Force actually, based in Colorado that could do to benefit from your abilities. I'd like for you to consider taking on a position with them in return for the closing down of the Centre."

"The Centre had me planning a lot of things I am no longer comfortable with, espionage, assassination, and the like. You aren't asking me to become a part of that world again are you?"

Hayes shook his head. "The Colorado base is nothing like that. It is a joint military and civilian organisation with a focus on medical and scientific exploration. You won't be asked to be involved in any kind of Black Ops routine, I can assure you."

"Then I'll be happy to accept your offer, Mr. President."

"Excellent son, now have you ever 'pretended' to be Air Force before?"

Jarod nodded. "That will make things easier for you then, Jarod, as we can slot you into the existing Air Force structure in Colorado. How do you feel about being an Air Force Major?"

"I think I like that just fine, Sir." The two men shared a grin.

"Good. You can stay here tonight while we get your new life all sorted and I have my people set about cutting the Centre's support from beneath it. Is there anything else that I can arrange for you?"

Jarod scuffed a booted shoe on the carpet. "Well, there is one other thing, Sir."

"Go on son, I'm listening."

"I'm in a relationship with Miss Parker, the daughter of one of the Centre's more prominent leaders. I guess I'm asking for some sort of immunity for her."

Hayes reached out and put a comforting hand on Jarod's shoulder. "How about you invite her here and we'll have you two married under your new identities? That way she can simply join you in Colorado as your wife?"

"It might work, but I'm afraid she might go insane trying to play the housewife, Sir."

"Does she have any skills?"

"She was part of a Centre sweeper team, so she knows a lot about security, surveillance, and tracking people. She also has some unusual abilities thanks to the genetic intervention of the Centre."

Henry considered things for a moment. Perhaps his somewhat rash offer to Jarod to have the couple both in Colorado was going to pay off better than he thought. "Maybe I could look into her serving with the same Colorado organisation as you, but on the civilian side as a sort of security consultant. Do you think she would accept that?"

Jarod agreed that in principle that the plan Hayes had sketched out had the potential to work. They both stood and shook hands, Hayes sending an aide to organise a room for Jarod and Miss Parker to bunk until they could both be posted to Colorado.

When the aide was gone the President turned to Jarod once more. "You said that there was one other 'Pretender' out there?"

"Yes, Sir. He escaped from the Centre quite young."

"What is he like?"

"I have no idea, Sir. I only knew of his existence because of the records I found." Jarod tapped the CDs sitting on the desk. "He was the Centre's first Pretender, taken from his parents in 1957. His name was Angus and he managed to escape the Centre around 1967."

"Then there is a good chance that if he created a life for himself that he might have been drafted into the Vietnam War. I'll have my people see if they can dig up any anomalous records."

"Why do you want him, Sir? He's been under the radar for about forty-five years now."

Hayes sighed. "Jarod, if he's even half as good as you are then I don't care how old he is or what he has been doing since he escaped the Centre. We need people like you at the Colorado base."

"What they do there must be very important, Sir," responded Jarod.

"Very much so, is that all you have on this 'Angus'?"

Jarod opened a folder and passed a photo to the President. "Not everything. I managed to get this picture of him at the age of sixteen, just before he fled the Centre."

Hayes felt a knot in his stomach. In his trembling hands he held a photo of what looked like a very young Major General Jack O'Neill.

xxx

Jarod had retired from the office to make contact with Miss Parker and make her aware of the proposed arrangements. He was then going to slip away in order to meet up with her and bring her back to the White House where they would spend the day sorting out their new identities.

However it was the identity of the only other Pretender to remain free and out of the hands of the Centre that had Hayes worried. Straight after Jarod left, the President had called the Pentagon, leaving a message that he wanted to see Major General Jack O'Neill straight away.

He was tapping his fountain pen against the pad of paper on his desk when the phone finally rang.

"So you got hold of him?" he asked the man at the other end of the phone, SGC-Pentagon liaison Major Paul Davis.

"No, Sir."

"No? Where the blazes is the man then, at the SGC?"

"No, Sir. In fact no one has any idea where General O'Neill is."

"No idea. He's head of Homeworld Security. A man in that position can't just go missing!" Hayes was livid now. Had O'Neill thought his identity had been compromised and had slipped away like a phantom at the break of day?

He could hear Davis sigh at the other end of the line. "Sir, obviously you were unaware of the shuffle that took place three and a half months ago here at the Pentagon."

"Shuffle?"

"More like musical chairs, Sir. There are twelve positions and they had thirteen Generals on staff. During the 'shuffle' O'Neill was moved from the Homeworld Security portfolio."

"And, where does the man work now?"

"That is just it, Sir. As I said, there were only twelve positions and thirteen Generals. When the music stopped, take a guess as to who was left without a chair?"

Hayes slumped in his seat. "O'Neill," he said sadly.

"Yes, Sir. As near as I can tell he was told to hang fire for a couple of weeks while his new placement was decided."

"Why didn't I know about all this? After all I approved Hammond's plan to put Jack as Head of Homeworld Security in the first place."

"If I was paranoid enough, Sir," began Davis, "And I think I meet that requirement, I would have to say that you were never meant to find out; at least not this soon anyway."

"You're not making sense, Davis. Get to the point," the President insisted.

"I think the shuffle and the extra General was done on purpose to remove O'Neill from the Pentagon loop. After all if you were going to get rid of him his work colleagues would miss him when he failed to show at work..."

"But if he didn't have a position at the time and no staff under him then no one would notice if he was missing?"

There was a pause. "Yes, Sir. I already took the liberty of sending a team over to O'Neill's Washington apartment. The rent has been paid up to the end of the year, but it is obvious that no one has been there in three months. There are signs of a break in and a scuffle. I think we have a missing General on our hands, Sir."

"Shit," muttered the President. "Fine, start digging, I want you to find out what you can about what happened to him, work out who went after him and why, and have it to me ASAP."

"Sir."

The line went dead. Before he had time to process the second bombshell of the day President Hayes noticed that he had an incoming call from the SGC. What else could go wrong? He pressed the button and took the call.

"This is the President."

"Sir, this is General Landry at the SGC."

"What can I do for you, General?"

The General cleared his throat. "We've been trying for the last couple of hours to get a hold of General O'Neill. We've come across something that we need his expertise with Ancient technology for, Sir. I got General Foggerty at Homeworld Security and was hoping you'd know where O'Neill had been reassigned."

"I've bad news for you Landry. As near as we can tell O'Neill has been missing for the last three months and it looks like foul play."

"Shit. Sorry, Sir," Landry apologised for his outburst.

"No problem, General. That was my reaction too. We've got men on the problem, but you're going to have to deal with your scientific conundrum some other way till we find out what happened to O'Neill."

"Sir."

"Is that all General?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Then one last thing before you sign off. O'Neill's disappearance isn't common knowledge. I'd like it if you kept mum about this till I give you orders other wise."

"Understood, Sir. Good bye."

xxx

P6X-992

December 19th, 2005

1748 hrs

Mitchell had returned to the ruins as the rest of SG-1 had taken a break to establish camp. He held up his hands and shook his head as he got closer and was able to take in their somewhat pensive facial expressions.

"No go I'm afraid," he explained as he got within speaking distance. "According to Landry, General O'Neill is currently unavailable according to the Pentagon."

"Oh." For someone who could run on and on, talking without stopping for a breath, it was almost amusing to see Carter reduced to a monosyllable response.

"What do you mean not available, he's stuck behind a desk now isn't he?" Daniel was a little lost at how Jack could be unavailable when spending his days pushing paper. Could it be that Jack didn't want anything to with them, even if it meant sacrificing the opportunity to go off world?

"I'm just repeating what the General told me," replied Cameron. He fixed his three teammates with a piercing look. "Why are you guys upset anyway? None of you looked happy at the prospect of having General O'Neill paying us a visit."

None of them would meet his gaze.

"So, what did O'Neill do that pissed you off? From the stories I heard I always figured you four were a tight group."

"Jack didn't do anything," ventured Daniel. "Just pleased let it go for now Cameron."

The Lt. Colonel and still relatively new member of SG-1 gave his teammates another quick look, deciding that he'd been right in his first assessment. Something about having O'Neill visit had distressed them. He would have to make a few inquiries when they returned to the SGC.

"So what are we to do with the Ancient device?" asked Teal'c.

"Send it back to the SGC," said Carter, glad that the topic of conversation had changed to something other than their treatment of Jack. "The lab techs can have a poke at it and if they haven't made any progress Daniel and I can take a look when we return to Earth."

"And if you can't puzzle it out?" Cameron probed.

Carter drew her lips into a thin tight line and avoided the renewed mention of O'Neill by leaving the campground. Daniel rounded on the younger man and glared at him. "I told you to let it go, Mitchell."

Cameron stared back at Daniel levelly, unflinching in his gaze. "Even just a veiled mention of the General gets your backs up. I want to know what happened between you four 'cause I certainly don't want to be stepping on a live mine when they retrieve O'Neill from wherever he currently is and send him to the SGC to sort out this alien object."

The Jaf'fa in their midst flexed his shoulders and let out a tiny sigh. "I understand your point, ColonelMitchell. However we are not angry with O'Neill."

That took Cameron by surprise, as he'd been damn sure that his teammates were angry, and had been ever since O'Neill had first been mentioned in connection with the Ancient device. "If you're not angry then what is the problem?"

"I did not say that we were not angry. It is ourselves that we are angry with," explained Teal'c.

Mitchell threw a look at the archaeologist he was standing next to. "Could you translate that for me, as I fail to see how being angry at yourselves would mean you were reluctant to see the General?"

"Jack was transferred to the Pentagon five months ago," began Daniel, hoping that by explaining it to someone on the outside of their quartet it would help resolve things in his own mind and give him the courage to not avoid O'Neill when it finally came time to meet with him once more.

"Yeah, that's common knowledge. You're not upset at his leaving are you?"

"I considered that," admitted Daniel, prompting a raised eyebrow from his Jaf'fa friend. "But the reality of situation is we're angry with ourselves for ruining a beautiful friendship through neglect."

"Neglect?"

Daniel dropped down next to the pit prepared for that evening's campfire and played with a piece of long grass. Cameron crouched down next to him, waiting for the man to explain, while Teal'c remained standing, one eye keeping watch on the direction Colonel Carter had departed in.

"I don't know how to explain it. Ever since Jack was promoted to CO of the SGC there'd been some sort of barrier there. We didn't socialise with him as much as we used to, although that was our fault as we'd 'forget' to invite him." Daniel wiggled his fingers in the air, grass stalk bouncing, as he made the sign for quotes. "Sam got engaged to Pete and it has all seemed downhill from there, hardly talking except during briefings. Then Sam's dad died, she dumped Pete and for a moment it was like that past year and a bit had never happened. We were all friends again."

"And then O'Neill was transferred?"

Daniel nodded. "And despite him phoning, e-mailing or trying other avenues, the three of us just neglected to write or call him back. And the longer it dragged on the easier it was to *not* reply instead of acknowledging just how bad we were treating him."

"And now?" asked Cameron, beginning to understand why his teammates had been so uncomfortable. The guilt they were carrying must have reached an almost crushing point.

"Now, Jack hasn't bothered to try and contact us for the last three months. Teal'c and I are worried that Jack no longer considers us friends."

"Colonel Carter?"

"Is worried that O'Neill has found a different mate," supplied Teal'c, shocking both Cameron and Daniel for different reasons.

"I don't think that was something you should have shared with Mitchell."

"Why not, DanielJackson? It is the reality of the situation. ColonelCarter has been unable to overcome her fears and now worries that she has lost her chance."

"Colonel Carter and General O'Neill?" Cameron was stunned.

Daniel slapped the ground in front of the Lt. Colonel. "They've not broken any regs, Mitchell; they've never done anything other than some slight flirting. They've not even told each other how they feel."

The archaeologist could feel the Jaf'fa behind him shuffle his feet. "Care to share, Teal'c?"

The larger man cleared his throat. "O'Neill and ColonelCarter were forced to reveal their feelings to prove that they were not Zar'tacs."

Daniel was on his feet, almost bowling Cameron over in the process. "You're only telling me this now? That was over four years ago! You mean they both knew how the other felt and they did nothing?"

"O'Neill attempted to discuss a possible relationship with her in the immediate aftermath of that particular revelation. I believe he attempted the same after Doctor Carter's visit and living as Jonah and Thera."

Mitchell struggled to follow what the Jaf'fa was saying and realised he really needed to go over SG-1's old mission reports more thoroughly.

"And?" asked Daniel of his long time alien friend.

"In each case I understand ColonelCarter let her fears get the better of her. She shut him out and refused any attempt to discuss the subject."

Yanking his glasses from his face Daniel cast his eyes to the ground as if in pain. "Sam, Sam, Sam," he muttered in disappointment.

Daniel figured that if all this had been going on in the background, it was no wonder Jack had taken the engagement to Pete Shanahan in his stride. He had obviously believed for some time that he had no chance with Sam if she had shot down the possibility of them being together at least three times. Was this why Sam was so upset? That she had finally summoned the courage to say 'yes' to such a conversation with Jack, only to find him no longer asking?

"I'm going to find Sam and talk to her. This has to be eating her alive."

Teal'c nodded in acceptance. "ColonelMitchell and I will finish the establishment of the camp."

"Thanks, Teal'c. See you soon. You too, Cameron, thanks for caring enough to get us to talk about this."

"Sure," responded Mitchell, now aware of the can of worms he'd forced open.

Daniel slipped his glasses back onto his nose and moved away into the long grass in the direction that Sam had left the camp. Behind him stood two men, both gazing into the distance as they engaged in conversations with themselves. Meanwhile he stomped his way across the wild terrain, taking note of anything that indicated that Sam had walked this way. Despite training as an archaeologist, Daniel had, after eight years as part of the SGC, picked up quite of a lot of 'on the job' training in the ways of the Air Force. That Jack had had training in other disciplines meant that the sum total of knowledge about how to conduct yourself on foreign soil that Daniel had learnt over that time was considerable and varied. As such he found it quite easy to track Sam's departure through the scrub, although to be fair to his tracking skills it wasn't like Sam had made any attempt to disguise her trail.

He found her perched on a large rock that jutted out of the ground at a forty-five degree angle, a rock which he idly speculated, as he came closer, to be something thrown up there during an earthquake. Although Sam had given no verbal sign that she knew he was there, Daniel hadn't missed the tensing of her body even as he had pondered the rock upon which she sat. He walked closer, no attempting to disguise his approach. If she really didn't want to talk to him then he was going to give her every opportunity to tell him to get lost.

With nothing to dissuade him, Daniel pulled himself up onto the shelf of stone and sat down beside, dangling his legs over the edge as she had done. He threw his gaze up to the sun, which was now much closer to the horizon, casting everything with a sort of yellowy-orange glow. Wanting her to be the first to speak, Daniel searched his BDUs in an elaborate pocket-slapping exercise for a candy bar. Coming up trumps with his thigh zip pocket he casually unwrapped the chocolate covered excuse for food and began eating, tearing off a big chunk to begin with. He poked the torn end in front of Sam's face and waited for her to bite.

The blonde's hand whipped out and snagged the bar from Daniel's outstretched hand, the unwrapped part of the candy snack disappearing into her mouth. Sam giggled sadly and said, "You don't fight fair, Daniel."

"Never said I did," he breezed. "I would never win in a straight fight with most people at the SGC, so it is up to me to win by using my old grey matter."

For a while both just stared out at the scenery, not making an attempt to talk about the issue that had upset SG-1.

"Do you think I still have a chance, Daniel?" Sam's small and cracked voice broke the silence that had settled upon the two.

Daniel looked at Sam and gave a small smile. "Sam, Jack has waited for you all these years, despite your shutting him out time and again."

The woman winced and couldn't meet Daniel's eyes. "Teal'c filled you in on the Zar'tac moment huh? Not one of my finest moments. Even now I wish I could go back in time and slap myself silly for not talking to him about it."

"Yeah," sighed Daniel. "Teal'c explained about that, and don't think I'm not a little hurt to only find out about that now some five years down the track. He also mentioned Doctor Carter and Jonah."

"So many chances."

The young man nodded. "Nothing has really changed, Sam. Jack kept giving you chances. Even after everything that happened with Pete, one of the first things he did when that was all over was to ask you to go fishing." Sam's eyes grew wide. Pressing on Daniel added, "And if Jack was willing to wait through all that and still give you another chance, do you really think that a little distance and five months is going to stop Jack from giving you another chance?" Carter's hand rubbed over the rough texture of the rock that they sat on. "Just, Sam, don't let your own fears shut him out when he asks again. Jack's just an ordinary person, like you and I, and us humans have fragile egos. I don't know how many times you can keep rejecting him and expect him to bounce back."

"Never," growled Sam.

"Sam?"

Sam held Daniel's gaze with her own, pinning the archaeologist with a look like that of a hawk spotting its prey. "He's never going to have to bounce back ever again, Daniel. When I finally get to talk to him again I am going to let him know in no uncertain terms that I want to be an important part of his life."

Daniel broke out into a huge grin. "Good for you, Sam. Just don't forget these good intentions when you do end up face to face with him. Teal'c, Cameron, and myself can back you up only so far. The words and the feelings behind them all have to be your own."

Sam giggled. "Yeah, the image of you pledging your undying love to Jack is somewhat disturbing!"

"Arggh!" mock growled Daniel, which got another giggle from Carter. "As if all the stupid rumours that used to float around the SGC were bad enough!"

"Oh," began Carter playfully. "What rumours would these be Doctor Daniel 'Beefcake' Jackson?"

xxx

The White House

December 20th, 2005

0957 hrs

Henry Hayes had a quiet breakfast with the newly married couple of Jarod and Elizabeth Stewart, during which the pair had regaled the President with tales of hunter and the hunted. They had been married prior to the morning meal, so the bowls of cereal and fresh fruit passed for the wedding breakfast. Neither were upset or offended by the lack of celebration, instead they were happy to reassure the older man that being both married and able to start new lives away from the interference of the Centre was more than enough to be starting with.

The night before their respective identities had been arranged then slipped into the various electronic databases spread across the country they would eventually have to deal with. USAF Major Jarod Stewart and his wife, civilian security consultant Elizabeth Stewart were expected at the SGC in Colorado Springs by 2100 this evening for their debriefing about the Stargate programme. They would be staying overnight on the base, but tomorrow would spend the day fitting out their new home, which had already been selected and paid for by the government.

They would have time to settle in as Jarod would not be expected to travel off world until early January and Elizabeth was not due to begin her work till late January. President Hayes had plans for the couple that would keep them busy until they were ready to undertake their new SGC duties. He needed for them to uncover what they could about what the Centre knew about the original 'Pretender' Angus and his movements since escaping the Centre in 1967. Henry Hayes' gut feeling was that the Centre's missing 'Pretender' Angus was in fact his missing Air Force General O'Neill. If that was true, he needed to know everything he could about Angus.

The fact that Jack had seemingly been forcibly removed from his Washington apartment could mean one of two things. Either the Centre had finally caught up with Angus, or that one of Jack O'Neill's numerous enemies, both human and alien, had taken him. If he could get Jarod and Elizabeth to eliminate the Centre scenario it would help simplify where to look for the investigative team that Major Paul Davis was currently assembling to begin working on O'Neill's abduction and on getting him back if at all possible. While they had a few with the ATA gene, none were as powerful as Jack and Earth needed him just in case they needed to use the Ancient chair in Antarctica again for the defence of the planet.

"So you need us to learn what the Centre knows about Angus, this original 'Pretender'-boy?" asked Elizabeth in summary.

Hayes nodded in the affirmative.

"Why?"

Jarod had an amused grin on his face at the way his new wife was dealing with the President if the United States. He had to admit that he too was caught by the sudden interest the man had in Angus. Although they had both been prisoners of the Centre at the same time for a few years, Jarod and Angus had never had the opportunity to meet as he had with some of the other 'Pretenders'.

Sighing, Hayes reached for the folder he had sitting on the edge of the breakfast table and passed it to the couple. Elizabeth got to the file first and opened it with her manicured fingernails, Jarod opting to look at it from over her right shoulder. He threw a look at Hayes upon seeing the colour photograph paper-clipped to the first page.

"That's Angus! Where did you get the photo from?"

"It is not Angus," explained Hayes. "His name is Jon O'Neill and he is an eighteen year old boy living in Colorado Springs. I thought it better that you know of his existence now before you stumble across him while there and mistake him for Angus."

"But how?" probed Elizabeth.

"Another clone," suggested Jarod, looking hard at the President. He hadn't liked being cloned himself, managing to help his clone begin a new life away from the Centre.

The President nodded, remembering Jarod mentioning the creation of his clone. "Jon is a clone."

"Created by the Centre?"

"No, Jarod," answered Henry. "I can't explain how Jon was created until after your debriefing at the SGC. Until then you will just have to accept my word that the Centre had no hand in the creation of Jon O'Neill. What I can tell you is that Jon is a clone of one of my people who worked at the SGC."

"You think that your man at the SGC might be Angus?" Elizabeth's interest was piqued. The original 'Pretender' had fooled a secret project like the SGC for obviously quite some time.

"Yes, I do. Although we had no idea that he was not who he appeared to be until Jarod showed me the photo he had in his file of Angus. The resemblance to Jon O'Neill was just too much of a coincidence."

"So, we'll get to meet Angus at the SGC," pressed Jarod, a little excited at the prospect of meeting the original 'Pretender', one who had avoided the Centre for over four decades.

"Actually, he was transferred to work here in Washington at the Pentagon some five months ago."

"I sense a 'but' there," noted Elizabeth.

The President slumped back in his chair at the breakfast table. "After talking to you yesterday and spotting the similarity between Jon and Angus, I tried to organise a meeting with our possible 'Pretender'. Only to discover that he's been missing for the last three months and that it appears that he was forcibly taken from his apartment.

That's why I'm asking to try and find out how much the Centre really knew about Angus and his movements. I need to eliminate the Centre as one of the possible perpetrators of the abduction."

"Sounds like Angus had a lot of enemies," drawled Elizabeth with a lazy kind of smile.

"He did. Does. But when we find him don't call him Angus as I'd rather not have everybody know he was a Pretender just yet."

"Really?" smirked the woman.

"This is Major General Jonathan 'Jack' O'Neill," announced Hayes dropping a photo of the man in dress blues onto the table.

The Stewarts could immediately see the resemblance to both the clone Jon and the photo of the young Angus.

"Fine," stated Jarod, who was backed up by a nod from his wife. "Once we're established in Colorado Springs and up to speed with things there, we'll start working on the Centre angle."

xxx

George Hammond's house, Colorado Springs

1013 hrs

The retired Air Force General was distracted from his pottering about in the garden by the call of his daughter-in-law Allison, who was standing on the back porch with the cordless phone in one hand.

"Who is it, Allison?" he called to her, reluctant to be called away from his fine garden without good reason.

The younger woman looked somewhat embarrassed at this and cupping a hand over the mouthpiece cried back, "It's the President." Once she had said the caller's name she seemed to go a little white as if only just realising who was on the other end of the line.

Well, mused Hammond sadly, there's the good reason to be called away from my garden. Picking himself up off the mat he was using to keep his knees clear of dirt, he straightened up and felt his back protest at the action. With a shrug of his shoulders he wandered towards the porch as Allison moved down the steps to meet him, passing him the phone as she did so.

"Mr President," acknowledged Hammond while his son's wife hovered discreetly in the background, still reeling somewhat at the nature of the caller. "How can I help you?"

"We've a problem with Jack." Hammond could almost hear the tired resignation in the Commander and Chief's voice. George had to wonder what was wrong given that President Hayes was actually one of those who generally backed Jack O'Neill in his position as Head of Homeworld Security. Had Jack finally done something silly to piss of the head of state?

"Problem, Sir?" Might as well get to the root cause of the problem right away Hammond sighed.

"As near as we can tell Major General Jonathan O'Neill went missing from his apartment here in Washington some time around September fifteenth. There were signs of a forced entry and a struggle George."

Hammond almost dropped the phone at the news he'd been given. "If he's been missing for three months why are you only calling me now?"

"Well, here's the kicker, George," began Hayes. "We only worked out he was missing yesterday."

The retired General had to reign in his sudden feeling of anger, knowing that yelling at the President and calling him an idiot wasn't going to achieve anything. It might make him feel better, but then Hayes wouldn't be likely to include him in the manhunt. With more restraint than he really felt, George asked, "How did he come to be noticed as missing?"

President Hayes then began to fill Hammond in on the various goings on of the past day and a bit, detailing exactly what was known and what was being done in attempt to recover the missing General. When the call was over all George could manage to do was find one of the cane chairs on the porch and fall into it. Missing for three months and no one had noticed. That Jack had been purposefully shuffled out of his position as Head of Homeworld Security was ringing the same alarm bells for George as it was for the President. Someone out there with a lot of political clout was moving people like chess pieces, positioning them for some as yet undetected scheme.

So now George found himself called back to duty once more despite having thought himself finally retired. He wasn't actually going to be taking over any particular job, given that Foggerty was now Director of Homeworld Security and Hayes wasn't going to replace the man as that would only serve to rock the boat and tip off the enemy in the shadows that their plan had been rumbled. Instead the President had seen fit to make Hammond part of the team that Major Davis was putting together on the quiet to investigate Jack's kidnapping.

George sighed deeply, knowing that in a moment or two he was going to have to enter the house and explain that he'd been summoned to Washington for an emergency. This wasn't going to be fun since he'd already booked the time ahead as a baby-sitter for his two granddaughters.

"George, what's wrong? Why was the President calling you on the phone?"

Hammond threw a look at his daughter-in-law Allison who had been watching him all this time since he'd taken the call from Washington. "I've be called to Washington for an emergency, Allison. I'm afraid that I'm going to have to take a rain check on baby-sitting Tessa and Kayla."

"Oh no, George, why? The girls are going to be crushed, not to mention that John and I were looking forward to spending some time by ourselves."

George Hammond sighed in frustration at the situation he was being placed in, but knew that this was something that he had to be involved in. He owed Jack that much. "I'm sorry, Allison, if the President had been asking about anything else I would have said no. But for this I have to go."

That shocked Allison, her shoulders slumping to make her seem a little smaller than she had been moments before. "What's wrong?"

"A man who was once under my command has gone missing in suspicious circumstances. I've been asked to help those charged with locating and retrieving him." This whole thing was completely FUBAR and Hammond had the sinking feeling that it was only going to get worse from here on in. That alone would have been enough for him to say no to Henry Hayes had it been something else gone wrong, but with Jack's life possibly on the line Hammond knew in his heart that he had to be involved. If he didn't and Jack turned up dead, he knew he'd spend the rest of his life blaming himself for not helping.

"When do you have to go?" asked Allison quietly, giving in as she recognised the determination in her father-in-law's eyes.

"Today, as soon as possible. Whoever did this to Jack already has a big head start on us."

Allison nodded, stating, "I'll look after booking the ticket, you go and pack."

Hammond displayed the traits of a good soldier and did as ordered.

xxx

SGC

December 20th, 2005

1345 hrs

Daniel looked at the object on the desk before him, his mind focusing out the clutter of books and paper that swallowed the rest of the table. It had taken a little slight of hand and a rather lame distraction for him to spirit it away from Sam's lab under her nose. He'd had the Ancient device in his possession for some fifteen minutes and was expecting a very irate Lt. Colonel to come bursting through his office door, demanding the gadget back again.

He had taken the alien 'thing' for two reasons. First, it was such an interesting little doohickey that he just had to take a better look at it and Sam had been hogging it all to herself in her lab since SG-1 had returned from P6X-992 the previous evening. Secondly, Daniel figured that Sam was using the device as a distraction from thinking about Jack and his possible return to the SGC to see if the device would react to the ATA gene he possessed. Since that meant she'd clearly been up almost the entire night studying the mechanism, Daniel felt that by removing said device from her she would be forced to take some time for herself and spend it catching up on sleep and food.

Daniel knew himself well enough now, thanks to eight years of pithy observations from Jack in the peanut gallery, that his actions in obtaining the object weren't as entirely altruistic as he so often liked to trick himself into believing in the past, and was happy that he was now able to acknowledge the fact. But the idea that he had taken the device as much to help Sam as to assuage his own curiosity did help to take the bite out of Jack's assertion that, with a new 'rock' to play with Daniel tended to put his own needs first and above other considerations.

The archaeologists straightened up, his back protesting slightly at his sitting for so long hunched up over the device. If he could identify what it was then he was sure he could deflect Carter's anger of his taking the object in the first place and instead engage her curiosity. He was sure he could identify it, the shape and design of the Ancient device tickling a memory in his mind. That usually meant that he'd either seen one on the other side of the stargate at some point, he'd come across it on a dig, or in some dusty tome about ancient civilisations.

In a blinding flash Daniel suddenly realised that he had seen a similar object before and that he knew where he could locate the information concerning it, when a flushed Samantha Carter came storming into his office with Teal'c at her heels. She rounded on him, index finger already up in the air and ready to waggle as she launched into some sermon about filching things from her lab without permission, her eyes ablaze with righteous fury. Daniel was just glad at that moment that he had established what the object was as he was sure he didn't want to experience whatever punishment Sam was sure to hand out after her impassioned lecture on stealing.

"Daniel," she began in an almost growl, obviously starting as she meant to continue.

Daniel decided to save her the effort, and his own hide, by holding up a hand to forestall any further talking. He could almost hear Jack lazily and rather sarcastically commenting 'There's altruism for you.'

"Sam, I know what it is."

That simple statement had clearly shorted the astrophysicist's mind as her mouth just hung open after the utterance of 'Daniel' and her eyes widened. Teal'c could see that unless he began asking questions there was a good chance that the three of them would be here all night until ColonelCarter started processing reality once more.

"You have identified the device, DanielJackson?"

"I have Teal'c," replied Daniel with a big grin. It wasn't everyday that you could silence the Lt. Colonel and he was thankful that he'd been able to do so when she'd been planning to do him some damage.

"What is it?" finally managed Sam, shaking her head as if to loosen any cobwebs that had potentially formed in her mind during her brief downtime.

Climbing from his stool and running his hands across the multitude of books on display on his many bookshelves, Daniel's fingers sought out the volume he wanted. He identified the light blue hardback toward the end of one set of shelving, the removal of the book almost setting off an avalanche of heavy books onto the three of them. The young man opened the book and then closed it again quickly with a thump, which caused a cloud of dust to be expelled from the pages and into the air. This might have rendered the volume a little less dusty, however also had the effect of setting Daniel off on a set of sneezes.

Getting the sneezes under control with a bright red and black handkerchief Daniel returned to his desk and set the book down on the table, hand running across the hard cover as if smoothing it down.

"You might like this volume, Sam."

"Why?" enquired the blonde woman.

"This one is by a Doctor A. MacGyver."

For the second time in the conversation Daniel watched as the woman's eyes widened in surprise. Twice in one day, he mused. Things had to be looking up for him.

"Is that not the scientist that you have often spoken of with almost reverent terms, ColonelCarter?" asked the Jaf'fa, wanting to make sense of the situation.

Sam could only nod her head in response, before asking a question of her own as Daniel searched through the pages of _Relics of the Desert_, "I didn't know he was an archaeologist too?"

"He's not," answered Daniel. "It seems that archaeology was a hobby for the good Doctor, although admittedly a hobby he was very good at. This is the only book he published on the subject, but he did also write over a dozen papers on a variety of topics. Combined with what you've told me about his scientific qualifications and problem solving ability, it seems like he is something of a Jack of all trades."

"What does he have to do with O'Neill?"

Daniel glanced up from the pages of the book at Teal'c. "Nothing, it's just another one of those strange Tau'ri sayings."

"And you think you've found our Ancient device in his book?" asked Sam, prodding the conversation back onto its original topic.

The younger man nodded, feeling extremely pleased with himself for cracking part of their problem already. "Doctor MacGyver went on a dig in Egypt with a small team to a previously undiscovered archaeological site where they uncovered this."

With a flourish Daniel stopped turning the pages of the volume and turned it so that the other two could see the pages. There in a glossy black and white photograph that took up half the page was an object that was a dead ringer for the once that Mitchell had stumbled across on P6X-992. Sam ran her fingers over the photo and cast her gaze to the identical device sitting innocently on Daniel's desk. From what she could tell from the photograph, the two items were a definite pair.

"They are indeed the same. What is our course of action now?"

The two humans looked at each other, realising that Teal'c had once again cut to the core of the situation. However they both then came to understand that they hadn't actually thought beyond identifying the object.

"Well, the best thing to do would be to see if we can get a look at the one Doctor MacGyver dug up back in 1986. Failing that, we could track down the good Doctor and see if he can help us."

Sam nodded, agreeing with that plan of action. "So, where is the item in question?"

"Unfortunately I have no idea. This book doesn't have any information on how the items from the dig were dealt with. I imagine that it is on display somewhere or in storage. I'm going to get in contact with those archaeologist friends of mine who I didn't manage to scare off with my 'aliens made the pyramids' papers and see what they can tell me."

"Can we help?" asked the Jaf'fa, and the three of them began making plans.


	2. Search Parameters

THANKS: A big thank you to Karen Joy who worked hard as my Beta on this chapter.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm not American, so I spell some things differently and occasionally I may use a turn of phrase that is unfamiliar (to "have someone on" is to tell a tall tale or tease).

**TWO: Search Parameters**

Pentagon

December 20th, 2005

1436 hrs

Hammond strode into the Pentagon in what could almost be described as 'battle mode', his face set in a grim glare as he made his way through the many corridors of the building in search of the briefing room that the President of the United States was waiting within. He also cut a sharp image in his suit and tie, Hammond having forgone any idea of digging his old uniform out of storage. He didn't really want to smell of mothballs in front of the Commander and Chief and figured that since he was retired that wearing his uniform would not be expected of him.

Either way, suit or grim visage, people in the corridors of the building gave the retired General a wide berth. George didn't mind this one bit, focused as he was on the fact that his former second-in-command was currently missing, and had been for some time. Come hell or high water, Lieutenant General George S. Hammond (retired) was going to be involved in the recovery of one of his most insubordinate, stubborn, and damn best officers that he'd ever had the fortune to work with.

His determination carried him all the way to the briefing room, where he found President Hayes, Major Paul Davis, the Secretary of Defence, and Richard Woolsey. He nodded in greeting to the assembly of four men and found himself a seat. Pulling himself closer to the table and then resting his hands on the cool, wooden tabletop, Hammond looked expectantly at the President.

"Thank you for coming at such short notice, George," began Hayes.

"Of course, Mister President."

"Davis." Hayes looked at the liaison and nodded.

"Right, Sir. As of 1630 hours yesterday afternoon it has been established that Major General Jonathan O'Neill is missing."

"O'Neill is missing?" queried Woolsey.

"That is correct," answered Hammond. "Before you ask any questions, Woolsey, how about we let Major Davis finish his report of what is known?"

Richard nodded and settled back in his seat. "My apologies, Major Davis."

Davis nodded in acceptance. "As I was saying, O'Neill was established as being missing as of yesterday afternoon. A subsequent investigation of his apartment here in Washington indicated that he was forcibly removed against his will around the start of September. For now we have no idea why O'Neill is missing, nor who undertook such an operation.

"However, the fact that O'Neill was rotated out of his position as Head of Homeworld Security so soon after taking up the post and was not given a new posting anywhere within the Pentagon does suggest that his disappearance is not an act of chance, but a premeditated act."

Woolsey played with his glasses. "You're saying that someone with enough authority had O'Neill moved so that his disappearance would not be noticed."

"That is what is believed, yes."

"Well, it worked," summed up Hammond. "The question is, what do we do now?"

"We need to know who was behind this and how far it spreads for a starter," stated Hayes as authoritatively as he could. "This country does not need some shadowy organisation working contrary to designs of this government."

"I agree, Mister President. But where do we start?" The Secretary of Defence had finally spoken.

"Jack will have some of the answers we need," said George.

"Only we have the slight problem in that he is the one who is currently missing," pointed out Woolsey.

"George?"

Hammond looked to the President. "With your permission Mister President, I'd like to head to the SGC and have SG-1 make contact with the Asgaard. Thor in particular always took a liking to Jack, and with their technology locating him on Earth should prove to be no difficulty."

"And if he's not on Earth, if the Goa'uld somehow got to him?" asked Woolsey.

"We'll deal with that possible problem when we get to it," assured Hammond. "Let us check our own back yard first before we go upending every stone in the galaxy looking for him."

"Agreed," said Hayes. "George, you have permission to talk to SG-1 and get the Asgaard involved."

"I will need to inform SG-1 of Jack's disappearance."

"Do so, but limit the information to them and General Landry only. If it becomes general news then we'll have a harder time working out just how far this unauthorised operation has spread."

"Yes, Sir. We definitely don't need a repeat of the mess with Tollan, Asgaard, and Nox."

Major Davis had the good grace to wince for the President and the Secretary of Defence, both of who didn't really know to what the retired General was referring.

"I'd like to ask for a favour, Mister President."

Hayes took a long look at Hammond. "What can I do for you, George?"

"Well, Sir, given we don't really know who we can trust at this stage, I'd like to help head up the recovery team."

The President sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers as he thought the request over.

"Are you sure that is a good idea?" queried the Secretary.

"No offence, Secretary Holman, but I don't feel comfortable letting somebody else co-ordinate this. I owe that at least to Jack."

Hayes played with his pen for a further moment before sizing Hammond up once more. "All right George, you've got the job. You can bring SG-1 in on this, but they can't be seen to be focusing on this or it will tip our hand too soon. Liaise with me through Paul here, and let me know what you need."

"Thank you, Sir."

Hayes nodded, and then turned to Major Davis who had been taking numerous notes during the discussion. "Now, does anybody have an early ideas about what is going on?"

"I have something, Sir," spoke up Davis, "but at this stage it is pure speculation."

The Secretary of Defence leaned closer.

"Go ahead," said Hayes, giving permission to speak.

"O'Neill, along with SG-1, has done us a great service many a time in their exposure of various underhanded organisations that have attempted to use the stargate for their own gain. O'Neill in particular has crossed them many times."

"You're thinking that this may be revenge?" Hammond asked.

"I do, Sir. Who knows how many have escaped our capture over the years, and what alien technology they have taken with them."

SGC

1728 hrs

Daniel was practically at the point of pulling his hair out when Sam and Teal'c decided to drop by his office once more to see if the archaeologist had managed to learn anything new. He was slamming the phone book down onto his workbench in frustration as they strolled in, causing Sam to pull up short and bless Daniel with a curious look. The Jaf'fa behind her merely raised his eyebrow in that timeworn manner that could have meant any of a thousand things from 'I know how you feel' to 'This man is barking mad'.

"Sorry," apologised Daniel.

"No need, DanielJackson. I take it that your efforts have not produced the desired results?"

"If you mean I've pretty much learnt squat," ranted Daniel, "then you are so correct."

"Surely it can't be that bad?"

Daniel turned on the USAF officer to his left. "Bad? I can't find anyone who's talked to Doctor MacGyver since 1993! It's like he's dropped of the face of the planet. No contacts, photos! He's not published anything since then either."

"Then the archaeological world does not have the answers we want?"

Daniel's shoulders slumped and he rested his head on top of the abused phoned book that lay on his desk. "No."

"Would it not be prudent to try elsewhere then?"

"Teal'c?" queried Carter.

"Did you not say, DanielJackson, that archaeology was only a hobby of this MacGyver? Would it not be better to attempt contacting him via his employers?"

The bespectacled man looked up at the imposing form the Jaf'fa who had only ventured a short distance into the office area.

"Why didn't I think of that?" groaned the archaeologist rhetorically.

"It is well then that I am the brains of this operation."

The two Tau'ri exchanged glances.

"You are having us on, aren't you, Teal'c?" Sam asked.

"Indeed."

Teal'c response caused the two humans to relax ever so slightly.

"Fine," agreed Daniel to Teal'c's suggestion as he opened the phonebook once more.

"What are you looking for?" Sam was intrigued, having heard much about Dr MacGyver through the Air Force grapevine over the years. The man was supposed to have solved many a sticky situation for the government with almost nothing but his imagination. She'd brought the man up with General O'Neill early on in the life of SG-1, wanting to know if the then Colonel had ever met the man or knew anything more about that she hadn't already heard.

It had been something of a rude shock to have O'Neill tell her that she shouldn't go chasing after shadows if she ever wanted to catch anything. She'd been so shocked by the pure non-O'Neillness of the statement, that she'd never really pondered what he'd actually been trying to say.

"As far as I could work out, Doctor MacGyver works for a Californian think tank by the name of the Phoenix Foundation." Daniel flicked over a page. "Here it is, five, five, five..."

Daniel punched the numbers into the phone with the prerequisite outside line and area code numbers first. It took only a few seconds for the ringing tone to be replaced with the chirpy voice of a secretary.

"Yes, hi, this is Doctor Daniel Jackson. Look, I was trying to get in touch with a Doctor MacGyver about something... Really? Do you know where he is? Oh, well, is there somebody I could talk to about him? Un huh." Fishing for a blank piece of paper from his crowded desk, Daniel began to scribble a series of notes down on the page with his usual unreadable scrawl. "Okay, thank you very much. Bye."

The archaeologist hung up, adjusted his glasses and looked at what he'd written down.

"Well?" prompted Sam.

"Oh, right. Well, apparently the good Doctor took a sabbatical starting in 1993 and he hasn't come back yet."

"That sounds a lot like either he did a runner or foul play was involved," stated Carter. Two options, either her phantom figure of scientific do-it-yourself was a coward or thief, or he was dead.

"Ah, yeah. But I did get the contact details of a man called Peter Thornton. He was apparently the director of the foundation till shortly after MacGyver went on sabbatical. He's retired and living in California, but I'm assured that if anybody can tell us what we need to know then it will be him."

"I shall put in a request for a vehicle to be ready for us at the airport," said Teal'c, brooking no argument, before he turned and left the office.

"Looks like Teal'c is keen to meet Doctor MacGyver," observed Daniel once the Jaf'fa had left.

"Wouldn't you be? I mean, if half of what I've heard about him is true then he's amazing, Daniel!"

"I know, I know," soothed Daniel. "He may not have written much on the subject, but he works on archaeology and ancient civilisations are considered classics. He's reputedly been responsible for the recovery of a number of relics that were once thought lost to time like the Holy Rose. If we can meet him then I can tell you that I'll be just as excited at meeting him as you are, Sam."

The pair shared a smile of anticipation. However the momentary high for SG-1 was then abruptly ruined by being summoned to Landry's office.

"Take a seat, SG-1. This isn't going to be a happy moment."

Doing as ordered the team got themselves settled, Teal'c even taking a chair when he normally opted to stand loosely at ease.

"What seems to be the problem, General?" asked Daniel, opening the discussion.

Landry tapped his desktop impatiently, feeling slightly agitated at the situation. "You recall asking me to get in touch with General O'Neill over some Ancient tech you recovered?"

The team nodded, waiting for Landry to get to the point.

"Well, I made a call to the Pentagon and was unable to get in touch with the General, news that I passed on to you." Landry sighed, "What I _didn't_ tell you was that I made a further attempt to get a hold of O'Neill by talking with the President."

"What did the President have to say, General?" Sam was curious as to where this little tale was going, especially since she had been stockpiling a list of things to talk to Jack about since her conversation with Daniel on P6X-992.

"The President had actually attempted to contact O'Neill on a separate matter just prior to my call and when he had been unable to locate him at the office of Homeworld Security he had got in touch with Major Davis."

"Just where is this going?" asked Cameron as he played with his sleeves and shuffled uncomfortably in his seat.

"What I am about to tell you is classified and you are under no circumstances to discuss it with anyone other than myself. Is that understood?"

The four members of SG-1 nodded in accord.

Landry took a breath and plunged on in. "According to what Major Davis was able to uncover in a short space of time is that Major General O'Neill is missing."

"Missing?" Daniel was nonplussed. "What kind of missing? Jack's gone missing quite a few times."

"Initial reports last place him at his Washington apartment in early September. There were signs of a struggle in his apartment."

Sam fell back in her seat. Jack was missing and the President seemed inclined to believe foul play was involved.

"That's about when his e-mails stopped," added Daniel, putting two and two together, as his concern for his friend began to grow. Jack hadn't given up on his friendship with SG-1 and simply stopped trying, he'd been physically prevented from contacting them through this only now revealed abduction. Daniel felt ill to his stomach at the idea that had any of SG-1 bothered to reply to Jack's last e-mail then his disappearance in September may have been discovered far sooner.

"His e-mails?" Landry was interested in a possible lead.

"Uh, yeah," said Daniel, clearing his throat and feeling distinctly awkward thanks to his sudden revelation. "We were all, bar Cameron here, getting e-mails from Jack on a regular basis."

"I know it may be invasive of your privacy SG-1, but I going to need you to supply Major Davis with copies of all of O'Neill's e-mails to you from the time he left here as CO to right up to his disappearance in September."

Normally this was something Daniel might have protested, but the desire to have Jack back from wherever he'd been taken proved greater than any need to keep some privacy.

"What is being done to locate O'Neill?" chimed in Teal'c.

"George Hammond and Major Davis are currently in Washington helping get the investigation started at that end. They'll be the ones to go through Jack's e-mails to you three with a fine tooth comb."

"That's it?" exploded Sam, somewhat taken aback by the small scale, low-key approach to finding Jack. The SGC should be knocking over buildings to find the missing man.

"It's a start," began Landry, "especially since we only established that O'Neill was missing yesterday. Plus there is an additional problem, which is the reason why you four are not going to mention this to _anyone_."

"And that problem is?" requested Mitchell, vaguely amused by Colonel Carter's reaction.

"Someone or some group with an enormous amount of political power arranged for O'Neill to be removed from his post at Homeworld Security. If we going into this thing like a bull in a china shop, kicking over every anthill in an attempt to find O'Neill, then whoever arranged for this in the first place will simply slink back into the shadows. No, we go under the radar for now in the hopes that as well as finding O'Neill we may flush out the perpetrators."

That was enough to placate Sam for now and she no longer looked like she wanted to throttle Landry.

"Right now, however, SG-1 has two different tasks, both of which come direct from the President."

Cameron eyed Landry carefully.

"Doctor Jackson?"

"Yes?" responded the man in question, sounding somewhat startled.

"We have a Major Jarod Stewart and his wife Elizabeth joining the SGC this evening. They will be arriving shortly before 2100 hours and you are to be the welcome committee. Get the couple up to speed as quickly as possible as the President wants the Major out in the field come New Year and Ms Stewart is a new security consultant."

"Ah, right. Okay."

"As for the rest of you, you are going off world in an attempt to make contact with the Asgaard, Thor if at all possible. Hammond is hoping that they might be able to make a quick pass by Earth and scan for O'Neill's location. You'll be going while Doctor Jackson here does the requisite welcome speech."

XXX

It was with piqued curiosity that Jarod and Elizabeth Stewart pulled their new, government issued car, up to the first checkpoint for the NORAD base that was the Cheyenne Mountain Complex. The President hadn't gone into any detail about just what they would be working on, or securing, saying that all of that would come out during their debriefing at 2100 hours with someone named Dr Daniel Jackson.

They were met outside the surface entrance that sat within the fenced-off compound, by another one of the guards after having parked their car in the directed spot. Following their liaison, they were led to a large blue bus that they boarded. Once they were settled in for the ride, the bus took to the mountain entrance and then inside, travelling deeper into the bowels of the complex. Elizabeth could feel the sensation of descent as the bus drove ever onward.

In what seemed like no time at all the bus was pulling to a halt at another doorway, this one bound on one side by a huge door that Jarod figured had to work like some sort of cork in a bottle. That led him to ponder if biological or chemical experiments were carried out on site, as only an accident with those sorts of things could require that sort of ability for a complex to seal itself off from the outside world.

They had been the only people on the bus, apart from the driver and their escort, so it didn't take long for them to disembark and the bus to rattle away back in the direction of the surface. With another nod and gesture the airman led them into the large passageway, taking through a couple of checkpoints where the newlywed couple got to try out their new passes. Finally, the security precautions seemed to come to an end, other than the ubiquitous surveillance cameras, and the three stood in front of a lift.

Jarod found that he had to quell his nerves at the idea of his image being captured on so many cameras. Despite the assurances of the President, at that very moment the Centre still existed and so did the possibility that his location might be leaked to them. He could only hope that such a thing didn't happen, or if it did that by the time the information reached the Centre that the President had made good on his promise and wiped the wretched organisation out of existence.

The lift doors opened to reveal a youngish looking man decked out in blue fatigues and a pair of glasses.

"Ah... thank you...," here the man peered deeply at the uniform of Jarod and Elizabeth's escort, "Lieutenant Briggs. Um... dismissed."

"Very good Doctor Jackson," replied Briggs, successfully smothering his amusement at the archaeologist's behaviour. The man might have picked up enough skill with weapons and other things off world to past muster in any physical military test, but his peculiar civilian mindset had for some reason prevented him from ever really mastering the in and outs of the ranks and divisions that came with being a part of the US military.

"Right," huffed Daniel as he played with his glasses. "Well, if you'd like to hop aboard..."

With a nod, Jarod and Elizabeth complied with the man's request, allowing Daniel to set the lift car in motion. The bespectacled man took a moment to gaze at the floor level indicator before sorting his thoughts.

"Okay... I'm Doctor Daniel Jackson, which means that you must be Major Jarod Stewart, US Air Force." Here Daniel stuck out his hand, to which Jarod replied with a firm handshake. "And this then is your wife Elizabeth Stewart, our new security consultant."

"A pleasure," drawled Elizabeth as she also shook hands with the archaeologist.

Daniel coughed once they'd parted. "Anyway, I'm sort of the welcome committee and get to properly welcome you to the SGC."

"SGC?" queried Jarod.

"Ah... well, that stands for _Stargate Command_, and I'll stop you there before you ask what a stargate is. That will become apparent very quickly once we get into the debriefing."

"You are our welcome committee," Elizabeth half-sneered, half-asked.

"I guess I'm not making the greatest of impressions here," admitted Daniel. "I sort of forgot about the debriefing and had to rush to meet you at the lift."

"So most people don't get this sort of introduction then?"

"Close... ah..."

"Ms Stewart will do fine Dr Jackson."

Daniel looked everywhere but at the woman who was slightly discomforting him.

"I apologise about Elizabeth," said Jarod, his voice slightly calming, "she's a bit prickly with people she doesn't know if she can trust." Elizabeth glared at Jarod.

"Right, well I guess that helps make you a good security consultant then." Daniel frowned as he tried to remember where he was in the conversation. "Oh, right, introductions."

Another floor passed by.

"I usually do the debriefs for this sort of thing for two reasons."

"And they are?" pressed Jarod, already beginning to warm to the slightly twitchy man. The pretender had to wonder if he was high on caffeine or some other sort of substance.

"One, this is a military operation and most of them wouldn't know how to handle such an introduction. And if they did then they probably wouldn't be bothered with doing so."

"Ah, the military mind," observed Elizabeth with a quirk of her lips.

"Quite so. The second is I'm probably the best qualified to give you the history of the SGC, being as I'm one of the few on base who've been with it from almost the start."

"Well then, I look forward to your briefing Dr Jackson," said Jarod with real enthusiasm. He had to nudge his wife lightly in the ribs in order to get her to smile at the man. Her smile didn't really help reassure Daniel as he felt like he was staring down a shark.

"Daniel's fine," he managed to force out his tight throat.

For Daniel's peace of mind, the lift came to a smooth halt and the doors sprung open.

"This is our floor," he explained somewhat unnecessarily and led the couple into the rabbit warren of corridors, following one of the coloured stripes on the floor in order to take them to the briefing room.

Elizabeth spent the walk sizing up the layout of the complex and the type of personnel who seemed to be gracing the corridors while her new husband, a thought that brought a tingle to her chest, seemed inordinately pleased with the ridiculously candy coloured lines on the floor. At least the Centre had had the class to have comfortable sofas and mood lighting. The whole place screamed concrete and fluorescent lighting. There was no way she was going to spend all her time down here away from the sun. She'd end up looking like a zombie.

The wandering of the archaeologist ended as they all stepped into a deep, rectangular room that had one large screen at the far end. The walls lined with silly little military images of aircraft, flags, and people in combat. Elizabeth figured it must help soothe the military mind when faced with a potentially boring briefing that didn't involve explosions and death. Daniel asked them to pick out seats for themselves while he made sure that his little 'talk' was ready to go.

Once he was sure that on the technical end that nothing wrong was going to occur, Daniel secured the briefing room door to keep out potential distractions arriving to peek at either the new arrivals or his presentation.

"Right, okay." Daniel played with his glasses, a habit that Jarod had noted. That thought led the pretender to suddenly wishing he had a pair of his own at that very moment so he to could 'play' with them.

"How much do either of you know about Ancient Egypt?"

Elizabeth could feel her eyes glazing over already, a reaction Daniel caught and he suppressed a sigh at having to deal with another potential Jack. Jarod meanwhile had perked his ears up. This certainly didn't sound like your usual Air Force briefing, as he had to wonder what exactly satellite monitoring or aircraft had to do with Ancient Egypt.

"Some, Doctor Jackson," answered Jarod.

"Call me Daniel. Now, does that extend to the gods of Ancient Egypt?"

The former Miss Parker let her gaze travel between the two men and already she knew she was doomed to some boring discussion about insignificant little details that she cared nothing about. With luck, tomorrow would be the day they issued her with a weapon and she could go shoot something. Perhaps lose a bit of tension on a firing range at least. However the happy grin on Jarod's face told her that her husband was happy and excited and that was something she'd sit through a boring lecture just to see.

"Well... Daniel, I could name a few of them and maybe give you a bit about each one. But it is probably not more than what anyone could learn from reading bit and pieces of an encyclopaedia." In-depth knowledge of Ancient Egypt wasn't something that he'd needed during any of his 'pretends' up to this point.

"Okay, good. What about aliens?"

The couple exchanged a long glance across the table before turning as a pair to look at the archaeologist. Okay, thought Elizabeth, I can see how the first part related to his job...

"You're the Doctor Jackson who pushed that paper proposing that the pyramids were really landing site for alien spacecraft, weren't you!" exclaimed Jarod clicking his fingers.

"I wasn't aware that you'd read that... paper," responded a nonplussed Daniel. Someone in the Air Force had actually read it?

There was a long pause.

"Your paper was correct, wasn't it?" probed Jarod.

Daniel managed to nod and clicked the button on his display controller. The wall screen behind was suddenly filled by video footage of a Goa'uld ha'tak beginning to land up the clearly visible pyramid pedestal.

"Ah... what you can see behind me on the screen is footage obtained by SG-11 of a ha'tak class vessel making its arrival on P8X-133," explained Daniel.

Jarod got up out of his seat and wandered closer to the screen to drink the entire image in properly. Meanwhile Elizabeth was urgently making a 'T' with her two hands. "Time out, people!"

"Ms Stewart?"

Daniel almost regretted gaining her attention as her sharp gaze fell on him.

"You're telling me that not only do aliens exist, but that they built the pyramids?"

"That is correct."

"That's not Earth, is it?"

Daniel swung to look at the Major who was pointing to the screen.

"The two suns in the background," Jarod said to explain his leap of logic. "This is footage from another planet."

Elizabeth had to wonder if the two men in her presence had each grown a second head.

"Yes, P8X-133 which is..." Here Daniel rifled through a folder on the desk, "Somewhere on the opposite side of the galaxy from us. I'm afraid you'd have to talk to Lieutenant Colonel Carter if you wanted the specifics. Science isn't really my background."

Jarod stood in simple awe at what he was seeing on the screen. Footage from another planet. Then it registered with him. SG-11. A human unit from this complex had been to this planet... to P8X-133, in order to capture this image. Humans had travelled well beyond their own solar system.

The pretender thought about the implications of that realisation. Somehow, people from this very complex, buried _under_ a mountain, had been to a completely alien world.

"This has to do with the stargate you mentioned," stated Jarod.

Still in her seat Elizabeth was busy trying to play catch up after her attempt at a break had been all but ignored.

"Quite," said Daniel, clicking the remote control once more. The spooling footage of the landing ha'tak was replaced by the still image of the stargate itself as it looked housed in the gate room. "The stargate is an alien object, several million years old in age, that was excavated in Giza in 1928. Although some US scientists briefly managed to get the device working in the Forties, it wasn't till 1996 that the general mechanics of the stargate were understood."

"What the hell is it?" demanded Elizabeth, desperately wanting some sort of rational explanation for what she was hearing.

"It creates a wormhole, doesn't it?"

Daniel was impressed by the Major's supposition based on what little he'd been told already and found himself nodding in confirmation.

"Wormhole," sighed Elizabeth, now at the point of giving up.

Jarod looked back at his wife sitting half slumped in her chair and moved to sit down next to her, resting one hand on her shoulder. "I imagine," began Jarod, "and Daniel here will correct me if I get it wrong, that with two of these devices you can create a sort of tunnel in space, a wormhole, that allows people and things to travel great distances in a short space of time."

"A transporter like on _Star Trek_?" snorted Elizabeth.

"That's one way of looking at it," sympathised Daniel, "although the stargate does it horizontally, I guess, and at far greater distances. It can take you from one side of the galaxy to another. We've even been able to travel to completely different galaxies altogether."

"You've been through this thing?" asked Elizabeth, half-afraid of the answer.

"I have," said Daniel. "It doesn't take much to get used to it and soon it hardly feels strange at all."

"I don't _have_ to go through it do I?"

Daniel shook his head. "Although General Landry might ask if you do so at least the once, just to get an idea of what this place is all about, I don't imagine that stepping through the gate would be a part of your regular job. Jarod here on the other hand..."

Jarod had to tip his head slightly so that his wife couldn't see the insanely huge grin on his face at the prospect of tripping through this stargate.

Pentagon

December 21st, 2005

1105 hrs

President Henry Hayes sized up Major Paul Davis from the other side of the table and couldn't help but feel impressed with the small man. Although the SGC liaison was something of a stickler for the rules, something that had on occasion put the man offside with the SGC itself, he did seem to deeply care about the project and those involves. Unlike Hayes' now missing running partner ex-Vice President Kinsey. Because of that care, and his anal need to stick to rules and methods, Davis was sitting opposite and fidgeting under Henry's gaze as he waited for the President's thoughts on his latest findings.

The Major, and here the President pondered if there might be a promotion for the man at the end of all this, had presented all the hard evidence currently at hand concerning the disappearance of Major General Jack O'Neill. According to Davis' report, from the reports of Jack's neighbours in the apartment complex and the tracking of the General's credit card, O'Neill had stopped off to refuel his jeep at a Texaco gas station at 5:23pm on the Friday 9th of September. His neighbours had sworn to seeing the man enter his apartment roughly half an hour later, dressed in his Air Force blues and carrying a briefcase. He'd apparently exchanged evening salutations (Davis' word of choice) with the pregnant woman in apartment 43, which was across the hall from Jack's own.

The same woman had confirmed the sounds of a scuffle later that evening at around 10:13 and once she'd managed to get out of bed to investigate everything had seemed fine. To the woman's credit she had knocked on General O'Neill's door in order to check on him and had received no answer. The following morning, when Jack had failed to appear at his door and say good morning on his way to his usual morning run, the woman had called the police and apprised them of her fears. That, Davis concluded, was where this shadow group had stepped in, because the woman's report had not travelled any further.

The neighbour had asked after Jack, glad that someone _was_ looking out for him but also worried since the Major had admitted to the fact that they'd only just noticed he was missing. To round out the report Davis had added that he'd persuaded the woman to sign a confidentiality form to keep her from asking further questions and tipping the President's hand too soon. Thanks to the Major's hard work over the last day and a half they now had a good idea of when and how O'Neill had gone missing. It was only the most important pieces they were now missing. Where O'Neill was now and why.

Jack's briefcase and other paraphernalia had been left in the abandoned apartment and a search of his clothes suggested that wherever he was he only had a T-shirt and a pair of boxers to his name. Hammond had joined the private briefing part way through and had sat silently at one end of the table as Major Davis finished the report. Hayes and the General shared a glance.

"Before I outline what I want done from this point on, do you have anything to add, George?"

"I do, Mister President. As instructed, yesterday evening General Landry sent SG-1, minus Dr Jackson who was giving Major Stewart and his wife their briefing, to the Hall of Wisdom on Cimmeria in order to make contact with the Asgaard."

"And the result was?" queried Hayes.

"Apparently they didn't get a hold of Thor, but the Asgaard representative that they did talk to essentially told them that the disappearance of Jack was our problem and something that we have to deal with ourselves," sighed Hammond.

Davis looked a little thunderstruck at that. "This is the same Jack that they've taken unusual interest in over the past few years General, going as far as cloning him."

"I agree, Major, that their dismissal of his disappearance is a little unusual. However, this wouldn't be the first time that they've told us to solve our own problems." Hammond was thinking back to the time that SG-1's arrival on an Asgaard protected planet had almost led to it being destroyed by an exploding sun.

"So," summed up Hayes, "we can't rely on them to drop by and scan the planet for him. That means that we're going to have to dig him up the old fashioned way." Here the President fixed Hammond and Davis with a steely look. "I'm putting you two in charge of a team to find Jack, wherever he may be. George, you'll be liaising with me to keep me in the loop."

"Yes, Mister President," replied Hammond. "We'll get started right away."

"Good. Now before you go kicking over every stone in town, I want to give you some idea of how I want this handled." Davis and Hammond both nodded. "Whoever did this has a lot of clout in this town. If Kinsey were still around I might even think he was behind this. What I need you to be aware of at all times is that whoever orchestrated this could possibly do the same to any of us. For that reason you'll need to keep this investigation as low profile as you possibly can, with as few people in the know as possible."

The two Air Force personnel voiced their agreement, well aware that Jack's life could be jeopardised if his captors knew that they were on to them.

"That means no one at the SGC beyond General Landry and SG-1. If it turns out, somehow, that O'Neill is off world, then they'll be our eyes and ears out there.

As for here, I want you to run a tight ship. We need names and we can't tip our hand. Gentlemen, this is a potentially dangerous game we're about to play. _Don't make mistakes._

Finally, Woolsey will be a part of your team and I want you to liaise with the Secretary of Defence for all your supply, personnel, and transportation needs."

"Yes, Sir," saluted Davis. Hammond nodded his head, and the meeting was over.

SGC

1156 hrs

The newly arrived couple of Jarod and Elizabeth had spent the night in base VIP accommodation, the promised accommodation off base in Colorado Springs being not quite ready. This was not quite the honeymoon that Elizabeth had dreamt of as a girl when she'd wandered the corridors of the Centre, although the groom had remained the same. This was more than made up for by the fact that the pair were able to even marry at all. The desperate struggle over the scrolls had nearly cost both her and Jarod their lives, a fight over something that in the end only created more questions.

The Centre was still out there and they still wanted those scrolls. That she and Jarod had some inkling of what they contained was more than enough to have them both terminated with extreme prejudice. Being here, under a mountain and surrounded by heavily armed men and women, gave Elizabeth some measure of security she wasn't sure that her new home in Colorado Springs could provide. At least, if the Centre did attack them at their new home, they then had this place to retreat to. Perhaps even hide off world. That last point had been a suggestion of Jarod's and it wasn't one she was keen on trying any time soon.

Her new husband on the other hand had gone off world with SG-1, Dr Jackson's team apparently, in order to get a feel for gate travel and see how the SG teams operated when on a mission. Lt. Colonel Carter had described it as a 'milk run', a simple mission with little to no chance of hostile forces. Elizabeth was praying that she was right, as she wanted her husband home in one piece, thank you very much. If he came back with so much as a scratch on him she was prepared to tear strips off the rest of SG-1. Teal'c, whom she learnt was an alien (an _alien_!), had merely raised an eyebrow when she had told the team as much in the gate room.

So, while Jarod was off playing Buck Rogers on some alien planet, she had spent the early part of the morning after their departure setting out her office and getting to know most of the heads of the various departments. She could get the general swing of everything else, as well as more names, as she got more comfortable with her job. For now, however, she had a Presidential direction. Hayes wanted to know if the Centre was involved in the disappearance of Major General Jack O'Neill, the only other uncaught Pretender, and she was the one tasked with the job.

In some respects this was going to be an easy task. While Sydney, obstructive old man that he was, might have helped, his being dead due to a bullet from Mr. Raines was more than enough to prevent him from being useful. That left Elizabeth with Broots, who was obviously such a coward that he still hadn't grown enough of a backbone to leave the Centre as she had done. She would make contact with the computer nerd and have him do some digging. Elizabeth had to hope that Broots wouldn't either give her and Jarod away to the Centre administration, such as her father, or alert them to General O'Neill when he began digging for files on Angus.

Picking up the receiver to her office phone, Elizabeth began tapping in the number for a phone that would hopefully find Broots tied to his desk and working at his computer terminal.

"Broots," came the timid voice on the end of the phone line.

"Hello, Broots," Elizabeth purred evilly, wishing she could see the man's face when he realised who he was talking to.

"Miss Parker?" he hissed in surprise and Elizabeth could imagine Broots spinning around in his chair to see if anybody was watching him.

"I'm flattered that you remember me."

"How could I forget? The last time we met you had a gun poked into my back and were busy telling me to get lost."

"Ah, those were the days," she crooned, delighting in the almost-stutter that had crept into Broots' speech.

"Ah," Broots swallowed, "what can I do for you Miss Parker?"

"Well, for one, unless you want someone to overhear that you are talking to me, I suggest that you _stop_ saying my name."

"Oh."

"Secondly, I need you to do some digging in the Centre files for me."

"Oh, now I'm not sure that I could possibly do that."

"Broots." That single word, said forcefully, had the poor man spluttering on his end of the line.

"Well," he coughed, "I _suppose_ I could take a look."

"Good boy."

"So, umm, what would I be looking for, exactly?"

"Apparently the Centre has another runaway Pretender, one that got away in the early Sixties. His name is Angus and I need to know everything you can find."

Here Elizabeth gave the Centre employee an e-mail address, one of several Jarod had set up for information drops, that he could pass all the information onto.

"Are you coming back, Miss Parker?"

Elizabeth sighed. "Broots, when we last met I gave you a piece of good advice, can you think what it was?"

"To... ah..."

"To get out of the Centre while you still can. I suggest that once you've sent me the information you've found, that you go. And don't look back."

"But," protested Broots, "what about you and Jarod?"

"I'm a big girl, Broots, and Jarod can take care of himself. I'm through with the mind games the Centre put me through and Jarod is still out of their hands almost a decade after he first escaped. The Centre is a sinking ship Broots and I don't think you want to be one of the rats that goes down with it."

"No. Right." Broots paused. "Look, I'll get that information you asked for to you within the week, and I promise that I'll make tracks afterwards."

"Well done, Broots. I'm going to hang up now and you probably won't hear from me again unless you decide to betray me to the Centre. In that case, I'd recommend not sleeping for the rest of your life."

Ms Stewart hung the phone up and stared for a long time at the receiver lying in its cradle. That was one thing taken care of, plus she'd done her good deed for the year. She looked up at the clock on the wall. Jarod was due back with SG-1 in fifteen minutes and she felt she deserved a reward for such a good deed. As she stood to leave, she once again thanked her lucky stars that she and Jarod had a room to themselves to indulge in.

xxx

Daniel was impressed, so was Sam. Major Stewart was going to do the USAF proud with not only the way he carried him when on duty, but with the sheer breadth of his education. The man knew a reasonable amount about everything it seemed and had been able to assist both Lt. Colonel Carter and himself with the tasks they had scheduled for this morning's mission. They'd returned to P6X-992, Stewart working with Daniel on the translation of the ruins before going over to Carter to help her make a repair to a weather device when it wouldn't deploy correctly straight out of the box. He'd even impressed Mitchell and Teal'c with his knowledge of combat and tactics when they had discussed a few SGC battles over lunch.

Once back on home turf, Stewart had been set upon by his wife and dragged off to their on-site accommodation. Daniel had been amused by the looks on the faces of the rest of SG-1 and those present in the gate room, eventually explaining that they were newlyweds. Everyone was able to figure out what he meant by that and Daniel blushed to remember his own honeymoon on Abydos. The mission debriefing, minus an apparently too-busy-to-attend Major, had been short and sweet, with Landry being told by all involved that Jarod was worth keeping at the SGC. The man was very likely to get his own SG unit to command given his abilities on display on P6X-992.

Dropping into his comfortable chair in his office, Daniel went probing for his landline phone that was buried under the mountain of artefacts that littered his desk. If Jack had be there to watch he would have said Daniel was miner, given the way he was spending his time digging through 'rocks'. He came up with the phone just as Sam, Cameron, and Teal'c arrived bearing food from the commissary. They may have had lunch on P6X-992, but no one in their right mind would ever describe an MRE as 'food'.

"Just in time guys," he said as he fished a piece of paper out of one of his desk drawers. This contained the phone number that he'd been given by the secretary at the Phoenix Foundation thinktank. Snagging a grape from Teal'c plate of fruit Daniel dialled the number and leaned back in his seat as he waited for it to connect.

"Thornton."

"Hi... hello, you won't know me, but my name is Doctor Daniel Jackson."

"A good morning to you then, Doctor Jackson. How can I help you?"

Daniel almost corrected the older man till he remember the time difference between California and Colorado. "Mister Thornton, I'm an archaeologist and I need to get in touch with Doctor MacGyver."

"May I ask why?" queried Peter Thornton at the other end of the phone line.

"My..." Here Daniel looked at Sam, Cameron, and Teal'c munching away on their food, "My dig team and I have found an artefact that closely resembles one that Doctor MacGyver discovered on a dig in Egypt in 1986. We were hoping that either he had it, or that he could tell us where it is stored so we could make a closer comparison of the two."

"Oh. Okay, just give me a minute to think." Daniel held the receiver to his ear patiently. "Look, Doctor Jackson, I think I may have the paperwork that will tell you where the thing is that you want to see."

"That's good news," agreed Daniel.

"The problem is that it is in one filing box among many that the Phoenix Foundation will have in storage at our main building."

"Oh. Is there any way we can get a look at this box?"

Sam, Cameron, and Teal'c continued to eat, but Daniel could tell that the pair each had an ear to the phone conversation, trying to parse what was being said to Daniel on the other end of the phone line by what his questions or answers were.

"It wouldn't be able to be sent to you I'm afraid, against the Foundation's policies. My recommendation would be to come to the Foundation itself. I could meet you there and take you to where the files are stored. Is that acceptable, Dr Jackson."

"That's perfectly fine, Mr Thornton. We're out in Colorado Springs at the moment and can come by any day. When would be good for you?"

"Well," began Pete, "the holiday season is upon us. Do you think you and you team could hang on till New Year to see the paperwork?"

"We'd be fine with that," said Daniel.

"Then how about ten o'clock on the morning of the fourth of January? I'll phone the Foundation and make arrangements at my end."

Daniel jotted the time and date down on the same piece of paper as Thornton's phone number. "That's great. We look forward to seeing you in the New Year."

Closing pleasantries exchanged, both parties hung up and Daniel placed the receiver back in its cradle and snagged another grape from Teal'c's plate. He looked at the expectant faces of Sam, Cameron, and the Jaf'fa.

"Well?" said Sam.

"Peter Thornton is sure that the paperwork pertaining to the artefacts found by Doctor MacGyver are in a filing box at the Phoenix Foundation main building. We're headed there in January to take a look."

December 22nd, 2005

1031 hrs

"SG-4, I'd like you to meet your new CO," explained General Landry to the seated assembly of SGC members.

Jarod stood to Landry's right, loosely at ease, and let his gaze drag across the three people who were to be a part of his team. Dr. Jonathan Archer sat opposite to where Jarod stood, wearing an apprehensive look on his face, and Jarod had to wonder just what ill tidings the scientist expected from his new commanding officer. To Archer's left was Lieutenant Karen Woolworth who was watching Jarod with an interested eye. Jarod smiled back warmly, but made sure that his wedding ring was a little more visible as he did so. He let his eyes move onto the third and final member of the team rather than wait and see Woolworth's reaction. Last, but not least, was Captain Aaron Motoyama who would be Jarod's second. The Captain gave Jarod a short nod of acknowledgement.

"Major Stewart is replacing Major Daniels, who has been transferred to the _Prometheus_, and will begin leading the team on missions off world after the Christmas break. Till then you will be Earth-side and I'd like for you to take the time available to get to know each other a little better." Landry nodded, almost to himself, at the end of his little speech as if pleased with what he'd said and tried to convey to SG-4 and Jarod.

"Pleased to meet you all," said Jarod as he made he way around the table, shaking hands with the three team members. "I look forward to serving with you off world."

"Do you have experience off world?" asked Motoyama as Jarod made his was back to where he originally stood and took a seat.

Landry gave a short nod and left the room. Jarod took a moment to observe him leaving and then turned back to the team.

"Well," he began, "I'll be honest with you. I've had only the one trip through the gate so far."

"Only one?" queried Woolworth.

Jarod grinned, "My evaluation mission with SG-1."

Motoyama frowned and threw a look over to Woolworth.

"How well do you think that went, Major?" asked Archer.

"Very well, I believe. All the major and minor objectives for the mission were completed on or before time and there were no issues."

"Then you believe you are up to the task of leading SG-4?"

Jarod looked over to Motoyama and met his gaze. "Only if you'll have me. I'm not interested in going out in the field with a team who doesn't want to be there and doesn't trust me."

"So, your solution then is?" Woolworth was keen to know.

"Bowling," was Jarod's concise answer.

"Bowling?" Motoyama was confused.

"Yes, bowling," repeated Jarod.

"Bowling?" Archer joined Motoyama in his confusion.

"That game where you bowl heavy spheres over a waxed floor in an attempt to knock wooden pins over. You have heard of it?"

Jarod's question was genuine and as such showed in his face. Thus Woolworth took no umbrage at the query and began giggling in her seat. Archer admitted to himself that, yes, he could see the funny side of the exchange and allowed himself to smile. Major Stewart might do just fine. Motoyama however wasn't as convinced as the other two, a frown adorning his face.

"We have heard of it," snapped the Captain. "We're not all as green as you obviously are, Sir."

There was challenge in Aaron's voice despite the formal tone, one that the other three couldn't fail to hear.

"You have a problem with my command, Captain?" Jarod was quickly skimming through his memories to understand how other military leaders that he had observed had dealt with such challenges to their command.

"Problem, Sir? I wasn't aware there was a problem," replied Motoyama, twisting Jarod's words.

"Well," said Jarod more brightly than perhaps he felt at that particular moment, "if you're unaware of the problem then we're all in trouble. But since I don't believe that there is a problem, I think that we'll get along fine."

Motoyama wasn't quite sure how to respond to that and before he could formulate a reply, Jarod took the silence as assent and carried on. "So, in the light of that revelation, I expect to see the three of you at our team building bowl-a-thon on Thursday night."

1041 hrs

"Two days till Christmas and I'm already up to my neck in paperwork," growled Elizabeth as she sorted through the various piles of material that Major Paul Davis had had transferred to her from the Pentagon.

She sat at her the tiny desk in the VIP room that she was sharing with her new husband, the Air Force liaison assuring them that suitable accommodation within Colorado Springs would be ready before Christmas Eve. Elizabeth had been adamant on that point as there was no way in hell that she was going to spend her first Christmas with Jarod stuck in some windowless, concrete room some twenty-something levels below the surface.

Jarod was off somewhere 'bonding' (here Elizabeth gave a derisive snort) with his new team of SG-4. The Pretender had been almost bouncing off the walls this morning in anticipation, as if Christmas had come early for him, ever since Landry had let him know of the planned assignment before the new couple had retired for the night. If a hyperactive, kid-in-a-candy-store Jarod had been the downside to that pronouncement from the General, then the upside had certainly been that Jarod was suitably energetic in bed that evening.

Wiping the silly little grin that had somehow snuck onto her face, Elizabeth scowled at the mountains of paper provided by Davis. She was given to wonder if the Major had a life at all if he'd managed to accumulate such a vast ocean of information-covered paper in the short time that he'd been investigating the disappearance of Major General O'Neill.

Elizabeth sat back in the chair slightly and pondered the discovery of the Pretender known to the Centre simply as 'Angus'. In many respects she was not surprised by the existence of another Pretender, nor one so far back in the Centre's history. There had been so many skeletons in the Centre's closet that one more was worthy of only a shoulder shrug at best. If the President hadn't tasked her with helping locate the missing man, Elizabeth would have simply ignored the revelation and focused on something else. Something like her new husband.

What had piqued her interest was in O'Neill's September disappearance. From the small amount of Davis' detailed notes that she'd already ploughed through, O'Neill hadn't been short of political enemies, military enemies, ex-government enemies. Dropping the list of enemies back onto the top of the pile of papers Elizabeth had to wonder if O'Neill actually had any friends, given how good he was at making enemies.

The President had primarily tasked her with looking at the disappearance from the Centre angle, to see if the old men had their sticky fingers in this latest issue for the SGC. Meanwhile Davis and someone with the name of Hammond were to start looking under rocks in Washington to see what crawled out. She'd already verbally roughed up Broots and it was simply a matter of waiting for the little man to come up with the goods, which left her pondering other avenues of information.

Here she was somewhat handicapped in having a husband. Doubly so, in that this was effectively her honeymoon that she was working through. She was loathe to leave Jarod and the secure confines of the SGC network, but if she was going to make any headway with her mission then she was going to have to do her own stone-kicking-over. That could potentially put her in the sights of Mr Raines and the rest of the Centre cronies.

Having Mr Raines back and breathing down her neck was the last thing Elizabeth wanted to deal with at this point in time. She was then pleasantly distracted by Jarod breathing down her neck, as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, and no further work was done for the next few minutes.

P0X-777

December 23rd, 2005

0043 hrs

Major Wallace was in a sense in the doghouse. His team, SG-19, was currently off-world in order to keep secure an archaeological site here on P0X-777 for the team SG-22. This particular duty, along with a couple of others, were the least wanted duties at the SGC, requiring as they did for the respective SG units to remain off world till some time in the New Year. This effectively meant that SG-19 wouldn't set foot on Earth until early January and would have to spend the holiday season without the comfort of friends and family to spend it with.

As per tradition (one believed to have originated with the then Colonel O'Neill), the military SG teams took turns drawing straws at the beginning of December to see who got stuck with the three unwanted off world postings. The straws were drawn by the COs of the respective teams and Wallace had been one of the three unlucky COs to find himself with a short straw. The net effect was that the rest of SG-19 was spectacularly unhappy with their CO. Thus this, their first night off world for the holiday break, was one for which he'd do his penance by taking guard duty for the duration of the night.

This wouldn't have been too bad, had SG-19's arrival _not_ coincided with what it seemed was monsoon season. The team had barely had time to set their tents up on high ground and in the shelter of a rocky outcrop before the scenery was obscured by the driving rain. Wallace stood there under the same rocky outcrop, boots ankle-deep in mud, throwing envious looks at the tents within which his teammates slept sheltered from the wrath of the monsoon storm.

Wallace was distracted from his thoughts by a bright flash in the direction of the archaeological dig site, some three clicks from SG-19's camp. The flash had to be at least ten times brighter at the source, the dig site, to have had made such a spectacle through the sheets of water falling from the skies. Something was up at the dig and it would need investigating. There had been no sound to accompany the flash, but Wallace hadn't expected one since nothing could be heard above the roar of the rain. Wallace turned to the tents to begin raising his team for a very wet slog to the dig site.

Something moved in the darkness behind him.


	3. Beware the Boojum

THANKS: A big thank you to Karen Joy who worked hard as my Beta on this chapter.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm not American, so I spell some things differently and occasionally I may use a turn of phrase that is unfamiliar (to "scupper" is to ruin something - usually intentionally).

NOTE: \...\ denotes radio

xxx

**THREE: Beware the Boojum**

SGC

December 23rd, 2005

0843 hrs

Daniel played with the paper clip to his file while off to his right on the opposite side of the long table was Cameron, currently engaged in yawning. Sitting next to Daniel and opposite Cameron was Teal'c running his usual 'stoic Jaf'fa' routine by staring off into the distance at nothing in particular. In the past, Daniel had wondered what deep thoughts the taller alien had been contemplating. Now that he knew Teal'c better, he was well aware that something akin to a stand-up comedy routine was running through Teal'c's mind, humorously mocking anything and everything that feel within the Jaf'fa's ken.

Meanwhile, Cameron initially struck the archaeologist as a far less complex being than Teal'c, the Jaf'fa he'd worked with for eight years. This had led him to peg Mitchell as nothing more than a cookie-cutter Air Force officer very much in the mould of Jack. Yet thoughts had prompted him to challenge both assumptions inherent in that statement. Cameron was proving himself deeper than Daniel had originally given him credit for, and Jackson was beginning to understand that Jack too had hidden depths.

In fact, the fact that Jack was _so_ much the model Air Force officer should have rung bells for Daniel, someone who prided himself on _not_ taking the surface and superficial explanation as the truth. After all, he was the one who'd argued the pyramids as landing pads for alien spacecraft. That Jack was such a perfect figure of military thinking should have caused Daniel to question things and dig deeper — yet he never had, and the archaeologist had to wonder why he hadn't, even after he and Jack had become grudging and then, later, good friends.

The deep wisdom of military men (the two at the table and the one who was absent) was something that Daniel now had to shelve. Carter swept into the room with Landry in tow as SG-1 finally got around to their initial report on P6X-992. Sam dropped into the empty seat next to Cameron, a large pile of files in her hands, as Landry took his own seat to the head of the table. Daniel mused that Landry looked decidedly relaxed despite the news that Jack was missing and that the Ori were now aware of all the _uneducated_ people in this galaxy.

Daniel could tell that Sam was anything but relaxed. The woman had confirmation that Jack hadn't abandoned her (or the rest of SG-1) thanks to the kidnapping, but she was also now aware that Jack was missing with little in the way of leads to his whereabouts at the present. So, the archaeologist favoured Sam with a warm smile, which she almost managed to return, the smile not quite reaching her eyes. Cameron meanwhile stifled another yawn and Landry tapped on the tabletop.

"Right, Colonel, tell us what it is that we have got." Landry began the debriefing.

"Well, Sir, we have obtained a device which appears to be of Ancient origin from P6X-992. The lack of any staff at the SGC with an ATA gene means that we haven't made much progress in determining just what it does."

"So is there any point in having it then?"

"We can't just throw it away, Sir, till we know what it does. It may just turn out to be the thing we need to beat back the Ori should they become really serious about converting our galaxy to worshipping them as gods."

"Good point," acknowledged Landry. "You mentioned that Doctor Jackson had something to add to the very little we currently know?"

"Indeed," interjected Daniel, as he began opening the same volume he'd already shown to SG-1. He passed the book to Landry who looked as the crisp black and white photograph on the page.

"And this is?"

"Sir, this is a photograph of an object dug up by archaeologists around twenty years ago and as far as one can tell from a photograph it is identical to the one that Cameron found on P6X-992."

Landry looked at the photo again. He'd have to take Dr. Jackson's word on that point since he'd not spent much time looking at the object from '992. "Where is this other object now?"

"We're not quite sure," admitted Daniel, playing with his glasses, "but we've made contact with someone who may be able to help us track it down in whichever museum catalogue it is hiding in."

"And that is?"

"Ah," here Cameron snapped abruptly to alertness and pushed a manila folder over to the waiting General. The rest of SG-1 raised an eyebrow at this. Mitchell met their gazes levelly and explained, "I figured that if we were going to meet this person then it would be best to see what I could find out about them."

Hank opened the file and began reading aloud, since it was obvious only Colonel Mitchell had seen the file prior to the briefing. "Peter Thornton, age seventy-seven. He's the retired director of the Phoenix Foundation."

"That's a think-tank out in California," said Daniel. He was hoping that the General didn't find a reason to scupper the meeting.

Landry nodded and continued, "Former operative of the DXS."

"DXS?" queried Teal'c.

"Department of External Services," supplied Cameron.

Daniel was just a curious as Teal'c about this. "I've never heard of that branch of the government before, what do they do?"

Landry shrugged his shoulders and looked to Cameron. "Colonel?"

"The DXS no longer exists as far as I can tell, much of what they did was absorbed back into the CIA."

"So they're to do with external threats to the country then," guessed Sam.

Cameron nodded. "What I could dig up about the DXS paints them as an offshoot of the CIA, created in the Sixties and designed to deal specifically with top priority spies and terrorists.

Thornton was an operative with them from the 1963 through to 1985. After that he joined the Phoenix Foundation as a director."

"Anything else to link this think-tank to the DXS?" asked Sam.

Cameron shook his head. "The Foundation is squeaky clean, concentrating mostly on humanitarian issues. Thornton did however retain some ties with the DXS."

"The DXS used the Foundation for their needs?" asked Daniel, appalled that such a thing might happen.

"No," corrected Mitchell, "they did however make use of a contact that Thornton had and kept in touch when the pair joined the Foundation."

"And that contact was, Colonel?" Landry was intrigued.

"One Doctor A. MacGyver," Mitchell replied.

"MacGyver? The DXS used Doctor MacGyver for their operations? What on Earth could they possibly want him for?" Carter's curiosity was in overdrive.

"I'm afraid that is the limit of our intelligence," said Landry as he turned to the next page in the dossier and found it blank.

"We could always ask PeterThornton when we visit," suggested Teal'c.

"If the man has any wit about himself, and he should as an ex-DXS operative, then I doubt we'll learn anything on that count."

"True," said Daniel, "and it is a complete tangent from what we are going there about anyway."

"That Ancient device," the General reminded them.

Sam nodded, "Our preliminary reports have been frustrating to say the least. It appears, at least to what scanning technology we have available, to be completely dead."

"But you're not totally sure about that?"

"Correct, Sir. Most Ancient devices we've come across have appeared 'dead' to our eyes until coming in contact with someone who possesses the ATA gene."

"So the best course of action now then is?"

"To pursue DanielJackson's line of inquiry," summed up Teal'c with appropriate gravitas.

"What use would that be," argued Landry, "if we can't activate either device?"

"Perhaps I might be able to persuade Jon to activate it for us," suggested Daniel hesitantly.

December 24th, 2005

1136 hrs

"This had better be good, Walter, I'm due to leave in the next hour."

Landry wasn't too keen with staying on base for any longer than he had to for the Christmas season. He may not have a wife and family to go home to, his relationship with his daughter Carolyn was still frosty and the one with his ex-wife Kim was non-existent, but at least Christmas at home was better than staring at the concrete walls of the SGC for the same length of time.

"It's SG-19," explained Walter as the General joined him in the control room that overlooked the gate room. "They were due to check in an hour ago."

"I take it this means they've missed that?"

"Yes, Sir."

Hank made a face and huffed in annoyance. "Dial the gate and see if you can raise them via the radio."

Nodding in compliance Harriman began the dialling sequence for P0X-777. While they waited in the quiet of a relatively empty control room Landry settled himself in a seat next to Walter and began typing away at the keyboard using the 'hunt and peek' method favoured by those who _didn't_ do a lot of typing.

"Can I help, Sir?"

"I'm fine."

"May I ask what you're doing, Sir?" asked the curious Chief Master Sergeant.

"I'm finding out who we have on base who can investigate if your call to SG-19 doesn't get an answer."

"Oh," managed Harriman, turning to the large window in front of him as the wormhole manifested within the circle of the stargate. Clicking at the radio he attempted to raise SG-19 with no luck.

"Nothing, Sir," he eventually reported to the waiting General.

"That's what I'm essentially faced with too," grumbled Hank.

"Sir?"

"I ask you, Walter, just why do we have so many teams on downtime at this time of year?"

"Morale, Sir."

"Yes, morale, I suppose letting them have Christmas is a small price to pay for asking them to step through the gate the rest of the year and put their lives on the line." Landry leant back in his seat, still unhappy. "Still, it leaves me in something of a bind."

"SG-19."

"SG-19." Landry paused in thought. "Is there still a MALP on the other side?"

"Yes, Sir. We kept it there because the dig site is a considerable distance from the gate, and needed it to boost the radio signal." Harriman tapped a series of keystrokes. "The MALP is still fully operational."

The monitor in front of Landry suddenly filled with the video feed of the MALP, which depicted rain, rain, and more rain than Noah had possibly had to contend with.

"I'm surprised that the MALP hasn't been washed away," commented the General.

"I believe that SG-19 secured it to the DHD before setting off for the dig site, Sir."

"Oh. This also means we're not going to see much more than this with the MALP," Landry realised aloud.

"Walter, get a hold of Major Stewart and the rest of SG-4. The Major is getting his first mission in charge sooner than he thought."

xxx

Major General Hank Landry was almost at the point of regretting settling on SG-4 for the mission to find SG-19. Almost.

Certainly, Elizabeth Stewart had done her best to dissuade him from sending her husband – and by extension her husband's team, although he was sure that Elizabeth didn't care two figs about them – through the gate. She'd argued that it was still her honeymoon and that Jarod needed more time to get up to speed with the SGC, that the new SG-4 wasn't a gelled unit.

Landry had stood firm and, after confirmation from the Major that he was up to the task at hand, he had sent SG-4 through the gate to investigate. Elizabeth had shortly thereafter left his office after a knockdown, drag-out verbal fight of epic proportions, swearing never to talk to the General ever again. Hank had to wonder at the parents of such a woman and ponder if they had _ever_ used the word 'no' when the girl had asked for something. She certainly _didn't_ _like_ not getting her way.

Still, Hank thought it better that the woman direct her ire at him rather than have such a newly married couple fighting under his nose for the next few months. Therefore, with a light step, Hank went home for a stiff drink and a good night of sleep. SG-4 wouldn't reach SG-19's camp and the dig site until around eight in the morning Earth-time, which would allow him some small measure of Christmas before he had to be back on deck to hear SG-4's report.

P0X-777

December 25th, 2005

0706 hrs

Jarod surveyed the area with a heavy sigh as what evidence there might have been for the disappearance of SG-19 had most certainly been washed away in the rain that continued to fall in never-ending waves from the grey, cloud smeared sky. It certainly wasn't comfortable standing there, ankle-deep in mud with the rain seemingly managing to find all the little gaps in his wet weather gear. There was an annoying little bead of water trying to make its way down his back. It was all almost enough to regret making the choice to do the mission in the first place. After all, he could now be having a leisurely breakfast after waking up with his wife in his arms.

Actually, Jarod thought, he was lying to himself. He _did_ regret taking the mission, but it wasn't a decision he could go back and change now. He would just have to do the best work he could and return to the SGC as soon as possible. He already had a few options in mind for ways to apologise to Elizabeth for accepting the mission. Shaking that pattern of thoughts he moved under the sparse shelter of the rock to find out what Woolworth could tell him about the remains of what was guessed to be SG-19's campsite.

"Lieutenant?"

"Sir," Karen replied, "all we've got here is the remnants of a lamp and a few items of clothing. It doesn't tell me if they were attacked or if they fled in a hurry."

"Well," said Jarod brightly, "at least we know where the team was based. From that we might be able to make an educated guess or two as to which direction they've gone."

"We know that they didn't go in the direction of the gate since we surely would have seen signs of it on the way here," argued Woolworth.

Jarod nodded. "The dig site isn't too far from here. Perhaps we should take a wander in that direction and see what turns up?"

The Lieutenant nodded and trod off through the mud to round up Captain Motoyama who had been standing some meters off in the rain, keeping an eye on the perimeter. Woolworth had to wonder if the Major had chosen such a duty for the man just to take him down a peg or two after the confrontation at their initial meeting back at the SGC. Jarod went to Dr. Archer who was huddled up against the rock wall in an attempt to keep out of the rain as much as possible. Jonathan had already complained that he was likely to come down with a cold from the horrid weather.

"We're moving out to the dig site," Jarod explained after he'd tapped the older man on the shoulder.

"Understood, Major."

"Call me Jarod," the ex-Pretender replied with his winning grin.

"Jarod."

With a slap on the back, Jarod propelled the poor Doctor back out into the rain where the pair joined Woolworth and Motoyama for the long hike to the dig site.

"SGC, this is Major Stewart."

\Go ahead, Major,\ came the voice of General Landry.

"We've found SG-19's base camp, Sir. No sign of SG-19."

\Your plan now, Major?\

"We're going to check out the dig site. If we don't find anything we'll be returning to the stargate in the next six hours, Sir."

\Understood. SGC out.\

With a roll of his shoulders to redistribute the weight of his backpack, Jarod signalled Motoyama to take point and Woolworth to keep Archer company. He would take their six on the long march. Shortly thereafter SG-4 was lost in the falling rain.

SGC

1012 hrs

"I was sure today was Christmas Day, SG-1, or am I labouring under some sort of misunderstanding," drawled Landry, more than slightly miffed that what he had planned as a quiet Christmas at the SGC – his _first_ at the SGC – was turning out to be quite the opposite.

"Sir?"

"My plan was to be at home with a good book, a hot drink, and some peace and quiet. Instead I'm here, twenty-seven levels underground, drinking a poor cup of coffee – had to make it myself since the catering staff are on Christmas holiday – and fretting about two teams offworld. The look on your faces doesn't fill me with much anticipation of great joy."

SG-1 had to pause at that monologue, but Daniel quickly gathered his faculties back together and dropped into the seat in front of Landry's desk. The General meanwhile rooted through his desk drawers for something harder that he could add to his poor coffee. Daniel leant forward, fingertips pressed together in a sort of upside-down 'v' shape, hands rocking with some agitation. With a heavy thunk Landry placed a large bottle of bourbon on his desk and began methodically to work the lid open. Carter raised an eyebrow at the behaviour, but said nothing.

"Sir, we have a problem–"

"When don't we?" interrupted Hank.

"Pardon?"

"When don't we have a problem, Doctor Jackson? When do one of you ever come through my office door and tell me that today all is right with the world?"

"Ah..." began Daniel, before giving up.

Pouring a generous amount of the bourbon into his coffee mug, Landry waved his left hand to signal Daniel to get on with whatever he had come to say. It had to be important, it _was_ Christmas Day after all. That thought had Landry pause and for a split second he could picture SG-1 as the Wise Men come to visit Herod to tell of a new king. Herod had taken _that_ as bad news and whatever Daniel was about to say was probably not _fun_ either.

"You remember my mentioning of Jon?"

"Jack's clone?" nodded Landry. "Of all the people to get cloned, it had to be Jack – like we _need_ _another_ O'Neill running around."

"Anyway," continued Daniel, as Hank took a swig of his _enhanced_ coffee for _stressed-out SGC COs_, "I put in a few calls to see if it could be arranged to have Jon come in to work his ATA gene-magic on the device–"

"You spent your holiday doing work? Doctor Jackson, do you even have a social life?"

Daniel looked a little sheepish. "Well, I hang out with SG-1..."

Hank turned a gimlet eye on the other three members of the team who had been following the entertaining conversation. They all averted their eyes from his. "And I have no doubt that the three of them decided to spend their time working on base as well." Landry sighed and took another drink. "Fine, what did you learn, Jackson?"

"Jon's missing," Daniel said getting to the heart of the matter rather than risk Landry interrupting him again with a tangent creating question.

"Missing?"

"He hasn't been seen in months. In fact, he's likely to have been missing as long as Jack has from what little I've learnt so far."

"Joy to the world," muttered Landry as he reached for the red phone on his desk.

P0X-777

1037 hrs

All of SG-4 was quite happy when the dig site came into view, or at least what they could see of it through the falling rain. Overhead the clouds rumbled ominously and Woolworth was led to wonder if it was a portent for their mission. The walk to the dig site had been an unremitting slog through mud and in that time they had found no evidence that SG-19 had passed this way since seemingly abandoning their campsite.

The dig had uncovered the entrance to an underground building, which according to SG-25's last mission report before breaking for Christmas, was believed to be the tip of a possibly larger complex. For Jarod, the stone building represented the only cover for some clicks in any direction and ordered his team to take shelter inside the building. Immediately the four of them took advantage of the protection from the driving rain to drop their hoods. For the first time in several hours, the team was able to see each other's faces clearly rather than shadowed features hidden by hoods.

"God, does it feel good to get out of that rain," exclaimed Dr. Archer as he flicked his head left and right to throw off any errant raindrops that had beaten any of the cover given by the hood of his wet weather jacket.

Motoyama and Woolworth were already flicking on their high-powered torches and making a sweep of the room that SG-25 had excavated. It had a high, vaulted ceiling that receded into the gloom, the torches not even able to make out the topmost point.

"We're clear here, Sir," reported Motoyama in his usual calm manner, although Jarod wasn't fooled and could tell that he'd yet to convince the Captain that he was the right person to lead SG-4.

"Good work, Captain. How about we get some sort of fire going for additional light and warmth? I want to save the torch batteries in case we need them later."

"Fuel, Sir?" questioned Motoyama.

"You and I are going hunting for it," explained Jarod as he turned to look over at Archer and Woolworth who were examining a wall under torchlight and trading theories. "Woolworth, Archer."

"Sir?"

"The Captain and I are going looking for firewood. I want you two to hold camp here. If you see or hear anything odd, get on the radio immediately.

"Sir."

With a quick nod to Woolworth's salute, Jarod flicked his hood back up, tugging it has far forward as he could to offer the maximum protection. Once Motoyama had done the same, the pair braced themselves and stepped back out into the appalling weather.

It took over twenty minutes for the two men to accumulate what Jarod felt would be enough combustible material to begin a fire with, and to arrange it to his satisfaction back in the centre of the excavated room. Then it had been another ten minutes of fruitless attempts to start a blaze until finally the wood caught fire, the walls of the chamber becoming bathed in the flickering firelight. That was followed by SG-4 sitting around the struggling fire in a circle, munching away on an early lunch in silence. All that could be heard was the crackle of the fire and the pounding roar of the driving rain outside.

"I'm surprised the room hasn't flooded by now, what with all the rain," Archer commented, breaking the spell of silence on the group.

"I figure there is some low level field that is repelling it," said Motoyama. He gestured to the doorway with his fork, "If you look close enough you can that the rain is bouncing away from the doorway and even though this room is below ground level the water on the ground runs _away_ from the entrance."

"This field isn't dangerous?" queried Woolworth.

"SG-25 has shown no signs of anything wrong with them and they've been working on this site for weeks now."

"So it's not responsible for SG-19's disappearance?"

"Unlikely," said Motoyama in response to Archer's question.

Jarod finished his meal and wondered how Elizabeth was getting on without him. This was the first day they'd been apart since they had begun running from the centre together a couple of years ago.

"Which leaves us," continued Motoyama, "with the question of what _did_ happen to SG-19."

"That is why they pay us the big money, Motoyama. We're here to puzzle this thing out and hopefully return to the SGC with SG-19," stated Jarod blandly.

"Does anyone have any ideas?" was Woolworth's question.

Archer shook his head and Motoyama shrugged his shoulders. All three turned to look at their new CO.

"Aliens?" he suggested hopefully.

Motoyama favoured him with an eye roll. That was when Archer noticed that it was suddenly darker outside the entrance and in the sound of falling rain a strange, distorted chittering sound could be heard. "Listen!" he hissed.

Jarod was the next to hear it, quickly followed by the other two. "What is it?" asked Woolworth.

"Whatever it is, it's getting nearer," observed Motoyama as the team all unhitched their weapons in case whatever found them wasn't friendly.

The alien sound was louder and closer now, SG-4 all focussed on the sound so closely that the rain seemed to fade into the background. Shadows skittered at the edge of the entrance, absurd images reflected in the pools of water on the floor. A deep clicking sound joined the original chittering, beating out the seconds like a metronome. SG-4 fanned into a semicircle around the entrance at Jarod's hand signals, no one willing to talk as the tension began to mount.

The light seemed to grow heavier and darker, the wood fire burning in the centre of the room now casting light as if it was ten metres away and not ten feet. A grasping cold seemed to seep into the vaulted chamber, SG-4 now in the clasp of frigid fingers of ice. Motoyama flicked his eyes to Jarod. The former Pretender met them evenly and dropped the safety on his weapon. The other three followed suit as a long shadow now covered the flight of stairs that led to the surface, becoming a deeper and deeper black as the agonising seconds followed by like treacle.

Then there was _something_ at the foot of the stairs, looking at them all with an alien intellect, assessing each of them keenly as if able to see their souls. Jarod could almost _feel_ something pressing at his mind as the thing probed the small energy field at the doorway with what might have been mistaken for some form of finger. Ignoring the sudden, irrational need to flee, Jarod began wiggling his feet back and forth against the stone floor as he moved forward millimetre by millimetre, determined to get a better idea of what his team faced.

The chittering stopped, leaving behind the rain and the incessant clicking beat. Jarod eased a hand slowly over the barrel of his P90 till he was able to twist the switch to the attached torch. The beam of light flickered weakly, illuminating a dull patch on the _something_ in the doorway. The thing seemed to pause and study the blob of light bouncing upon itself. All SG-4 could make of what they could see was a mishmash of various shades of grey and black.

Opposite him on the other edge of the semi-circle Woolworth edged forward and did the same with her torch. The thing then took on a red tinge and with sudden speed leapt forward through the energy field. What fell to the floor only inches from Archer seemed more akin to faded and threadbare pieces of black cloth than an entity, that too ceasing to exist by the time SG-4 could react. The clicking sound was gone.

Motoyama pointed his shaky weapon to the patch on the floor where the thing had fallen and let out a rush of air. "Shit. What the hell was _that_?"

SGC

1145 hrs

Elizabeth Stewart wasn't in a good mood and she was doing her best to make sure everyone else in the mountain knew exactly what sort of mood she _was_ in. She'd even managed to make some of the patrolling men flinch as she stormed past, murder written across her face. Unfortunately for her, there wasn't anyone on the base she could get away with doing in without making a scene and she'd already ranted and raved again at General Landry that morning for letting Jarod travel off world to P0X-777. Of all the days to send him away, it would have to be Christmas Day. She'd been so looking forward to Jarod's surprise and delight at the special present she was going to have him _unwrap_ Christmas morning. Those delicate little nothings would have to hide in her drawers till her errant husband returned to the fold.

At a loose end she decided to have lunch early and was headed to the commissary since she had no family (that she wished to acknowledge) to visit outside of the base for Christmas and eating alone in a restaurant seemed an empty exercise. It was therefore not Daniel's day when he found his quiet lunch, which involved whatever had been dished up to him – his focus not really being on the food – and the book he had his nose buried in, being interrupted by Elizabeth sitting down opposite him, her tray banging louder than necessary on the tabletop.

"Eh... hello," coughed Daniel, still somewhat unnerved by the new security consultant, especially since Jarod wasn't right there beside her to offset her rather intimidating presence with his own more relaxed one.

"Doctor Jackson," she acknowledged, voice like an Arctic wind which cut right through him. Daniel wondered if he'd said or done something to piss her off.

"Call me Daniel," he reminded her.

"Daniel."

The archaeologist shuddered as if a bead of frigid water had rolled down his spine. No, getting her to use his first name hadn't improved the manner of her greeting.

Then, without asking, Elizabeth snatched the book he'd been reading out of his left hand and, seemingly _forgetting_ to mark Daniel's place in the book with a finger, she closed the book in order to read the cover. "'_Relics of the Desert_'," she snorted. "I would have thought, _Daniel_, with the SGC dealing with aliens that this sort of reading would need to take a back seat."

"Are you suggesting my priorities are wrong?"

Elizabeth waved the book with one hand as she used the fork in her other to push the food around on her tray. "Really, Daniel, would I really say something like that?"

"I don't know, _Elizabeth_. I've only known you for a couple of days. Are you _likely_ to say something like that?" Daniel's eyes hardened as the jab she was making at him. Her question of priorities had hit a sore spot given how far down his list of priorities he'd let Jack slip.

The former Miss Parker inwardly was delighted by the steely look in the archaeologist's eyes, knowing that she'd managed to strike a nerve somewhere. If she was going to be lonely and miserable on Christmas Day then it was her duty to spread the joy, especially since Broots wasn't around to needle as had been her want. Doing that over the phone wouldn't be as much fun and an unnecessary security risk as the Centre was still actively searching for Jarod.

"Now, now, Daniel, I was only asking why you had taken to reading this book when there were matters of greater importance at hand."

"Like what?"

Elizabeth nodded, leant over the table and in Daniel's ear said in a whisper, "Like finding General O'Neill."

Daniel started at this; surprised that the woman already knew that Jack was missing given Landry had told them that no one was supposed to know. "How?"

"Do I know?" Daniel nodded.

A smirk appeared on the woman's face and Daniel couldn't prevent the flinch reaction he'd seemed to have developed in only two days. "Why, the President told my husband and I before we arrived here. After all, I am the new security consultant."

"You're going to help locate him?" asked Daniel as he kept his voice subdued.

"In a manner of speaking." That she was actually going to be looking into _Angus_ the Pretender and not General O'Neill, was not something that Daniel needed to know just yet. The Stewarts were under oath not to mention the Pretender project until such time as the President gave them permission to speak. Elizabeth speculated that would probably wait until after O'Neill had been recovered and debriefed. "So," she continued, "why do you read such a book when larger things loom on the horizon?"

Daniel tugged the book out of her hand and she let him do so. He scowled at her and through clenched teeth informed her that he was reading it because something in it might just help with the Ancient relic that SG-1 had discovered on P6X-992. A relic that Jack would be needed to work with in order to uncover what properties it had. Finally he asked, "Is there any particular reason you've decided to pick on me this morning, or am I merely the first on a list of people you're going to needle?"

"I am somewhat annoyed at my husband being sent out into the field on Christmas Day."

_Somewhat_ was something of an understatement, thought Daniel.

"And I hold you responsible."

That blew Daniel out of the water. Just how the hell had she made such a jump of logic.

"Me?" he spluttered.

"Yes, you, unless you've changed identities since we first met," she teased the man opposite her. Daniel would have mistaken this for flirting had she not been married, and the small fact that she seemed to watch him like a predator.

"How on Earth did you come to such a ridiculous conclusion?"

"Simply that, if you had kept your briefing about the SGC to simple facts and had not so enthusiastically captured my husband's imagination with your talk of going off-world, I might have had him to myself today."

Daniel winced as the thought of having come between a newlywed-couple in what was effectively their honeymoon time. Rather cowardly he tried to pass some of the blame on to General Landry for sending Jarod on the mission and even Jarod himself for going, but Elizabeth was having none of it. She folded her arms and glared at him.

Daniel set his book and fork down and made a placating gesture with his hands. "Look, I can sympathise with your predicament. Can't you see you are taking this dislike of me to absurd extremes, unless there is something else that you want to blame me for?"

Elizabeth sighed and seemed to slump in her plastic chair. "You're nowhere near as much fun as Broots was to needle, Daniel." Her voice was a little softer now and she had an almost sad and wistful look on her face. "Those were the good ol' days," she said almost to herself as she looked off into the distance.

Cocking his head Daniel looked at the woman with a new understanding and realised she was even more like Jack than he'd previously guessed. "You're deliberately trying to get a rise out of me, so that you can vent safely. It's like a form of therapy for you." Just like Jack would bang on about my _rocks_.

"I'd rather you didn't analyse me, Daniel," she said as she sat forward and reached for her coffee.

"Well," said Daniel after a pause in the conversation, "you can always try winding up Harriman."

"Which one is he?" Elizabeth asked eagerly with a new spark in her eyes.

In the gate control room where he was packing to go home for Christmas break, Harriman felt an inexplicable urge to run and hide. He looked around but couldn't see anything different or dangerous and shrugged off the sensation.

P0X-777

1153 hrs

SG-4 had sat with their backs to the flickering fire in the middle of the room, all with their weapon clutched tightly in their hands. No one had spoken since Motoyama had posed his question, the team just a tad rattled by the thing in the doorway.

Jarod had turned the memory over and over in his mind, trying to analyse what it was they had just seen, but the thing defied description. When they had tried to look directly at it the thing seemed to change, to almost be in flux so that its form never settled. For Jarod he had found his eyes have involuntarily slipped away from the thing, having to fight to keep it pinned in his sights. Even the use of the torches had given them nothing new to go on, just a strange smear of nothing. Only the red glow had been noticeable and Jarod wasn't sure what to make of it.

Then there was the presence he'd felt trying to press against his mind, pushing for entry. He wanted to ask the others if they'd felt the same thing but given the spooked state they were in he wasn't sure if he wanted to get them talking. One of them could easily fall apart given what had just happened. He'd wanted aliens, now he'd seen one (Teal'c didn't count given how human he appeared) and Jarod wasn't sure he wanted to meet another one.

For the former Pretender, his first priority now was to get SG-4 back to the SGC as soon as possible. For starters they'd be away from this godforsaken planet, and it would provide a place of security and safety for any of his team to snap should they need the outlet. Jarod himself just wanted to find Elizabeth and crawl into bed with her, to forget the world and lose himself in his wife till he felt up to facing the universe again.

The problem with returning to the SGC was the long trek back to the stargate in the rain, the weather reducing visibility to almost nothing, and Jarod was loath to take SG-4 out in such conditions when there was no guarantee that '777 didn't have any more of that thing roaming about on its surface.

Reaching out Jarod grabbed another piece of the wood that had been collected and deposited it onto the fire, before turning back to face the entrance. He sat as the warmth hit his back and crackle and pop of the slightly damp wood reached his ears. He flicked his eyes to the entrance where the rain was still being repelled and forced to move uphill and away from the underground chamber. Given what had happened to the thing it was no longer a simple field designed to preserve the structure as had been previously supposed. Jarod had to wonder, even if nothing had happened to SG-25, what it could be doing to SG-4 as they sat in the cold and dark room.

Then the sound of the incessant rain was overtaken by a sudden thunderous blast that sounded very much like a two-note horn blast, SG-4 all leaping to their feet and wildly bringing their weapons to bear on the chamber entrance.

"Shit," cursed Motoyama. There followed a long string of curses in Japanese which Jarod understood, but which by the expressions on their faces Woolworth and Archer did not.

Jarod managed to tell Motoyama to cool down and concentrate in Japanese, much to the surprise of his subordinate, before the ground began to shake.

"Earthquake!" yelled Archer.

Woolworth had edged right over to the entrance, possibly in the belief that the supports there would hold better than the rest of the room as per earthquake emergency instructions back on Earth. The others were trying to join her as the floor seemed to seethe and roil under their feet. Woolworth began shaking her head. "Not earthquake," she shouted above the noise, "Spaceship!"

Jarod meet her eyes and as he slammed against the wall next to the entrance he raised an eyebrow. Then the stairway was flooded with a blinding, bright white light that forced the team to all look away and shield their eyes. As the light faded a new roar was then heard, followed by a sudden crack and then slowly the sound of rain began to filter back into the awareness of the team.

"I'm not in the mood for any more surprises," spat Motoyama.

"Agreed," said Jarod as he maintained a level gaze with Woolworth. "We're heading back to the gate now."

Within moments the team were all strapped up and ready to go, the makeshift fire was extinguished, and Jarod took point as he lead them up the stairwell and back into the driving rain.

It was a long, cold, wet, miserable, and tension filled march back to the gate. Everyone had been on edge, no one spoke, and every slight movement of shadow on either side of the muddy path back was aimed at should it suddenly be one of those _things_. By the time they reached the gate without incident Archer was running on pure adrenaline and Jarod was sure he'd crash once they were safely back at the SGC. Woolworth dialled the gate and sent their IDC and the other three watched their surrounds for even the slightest non-rain induced twitch of foliage.

Once the gate had sprung into life, Motoyama turned to Jarod and simply said, "You'll do, for now."

SGC

1435 hrs

Landry turned to look up at the door when he heard a knock. "Walter."

"Sir." Harriman cleared his throat. "SG-4 have just returned."

Landry nodded, stood and followed Harriman from his office. His brisk steps carried him to the gate room where he observed SG-4 shucking off their raincoats and dropping their backpacks. Other SG personnel were taking their weapons from them and Archer had decided to collapse in a slumped heap against the railing of the ramp.

"SG-4," Landry said to announce his presence.

Archer simply waved a limp hand in greeting to which Landry frowned. Then he got a good look at the team and appeared simply shattered. Woolworth seemed very pale, Motoyama a little shaky, and Jarod wasn't his usual buoyant self. At least he's not dead or missing, thought Landry, relieved that he wouldn't have to inform Elizabeth of either such fates. He didn't think he himself would survive the telling given her fury over letting him go in the first place.

"We were beginning to get a little worried when you missed your six hour deadline for checking in."

"You didn't send a team look for us, did you?" asked Motoyama in horror.

Landry shook his head. "I sent you to look for SG-19 because you were the _only_ team I had available. Can't send a team I don't have after you."

Woolworth seemed to pale even further at the idea that had things gone differently they may have been stuck on '777 without any form of backup coming to their aid.

Behind Landry the gate room door opened again and admitted a swarm of medical personnel who coaxed Archer into standing as one by one the team were then moved to the infirmary for the standard post-mission checks.

It was a long hour and a half later that Landry had the four assembled in his briefing room, along with Ms Stewart, who'd refused to be parted from her husband once she'd learnt of his return and who now sat to Jarod's left as she held his hand. She was alternately smiling affectionately at Jarod or levelling a glare of nuclear proportions at General Landry.

Despite the time to decompress mentally spent in the infirmary, Landry noted that SG-4 still seemed quite shaken by their experiences on P0X-777. That Jarod, as a newcomer to the SGC experience, was discomposed was not a surprise to the General, but to see Motoyama – a six-year veteran of off-world missions – so unnerved put Hank on alert. Added to this was the fact that the team had returned from '777 _without_ SG-19. All told, this didn't look like it was going to be a fun debriefing.

Elizabeth herself was keenly aware of the edgy nature of SG-4 having been witness to it in the infirmary when reuniting with Jarod. Her husband looked almost shell-shocked and tiny sitting on the infirmary bed – a little boy playing at soldier. She had fallen in love with him all over again at that vulnerable picture, clutching him tightly to her lest he be spirited away through the gate a second time. Elizabeth had almost demanded right there, right then, that Jarod promise never to set foot through the gate again. But she knew she could never demand that of him even if the look on his face would haunt her nightmares from this point on.

She knew on an intellectual level that she was clinging to Jarod tighter than she might have done in the past purely because so much that of her life that had once been concrete had proven not to be what it appeared. After the events surrounding the discovery of the scrolls Elizabeth had still been committed to the recapture of Jarod, but only because the revelations surrounding the man she had once believed was her father had tilted the balance of power at the Centre, leaving her with little influence or room to manoeuvre. She had been ordered to bring Jarod in before anyone else managed it or face the consequences.

After that, she had tracked Jarod with the zeal of someone with a renewed sense of purpose. She hunted the Pretender, not to bring him to Mr. Raines as ordered, but to escape into the shadows with him; to become someone else other than Miss Parker. Jarod had definitely been surprised when she'd confronted him in early 2002 with her plan, reluctantly taking her with him as they escaped from Sam the Sweeper and his team. So for almost three years now Jarod had been her rock, her one constant that had not failed her as others in her life had repeatedly, and she was not about to give him up for anything.

"Welcome back, SG-4," began Hank, interrupting Elizabeth's reminisces, "and from the looks on your faces after gating back I can see you're all thankful to be back here."

Woolworth managed a nod when the rest of the team didn't move.

"Major, if you'd begin by summarising the mission."

Jarod took strength from Elizabeth's gentle squeeze of his left hand and acknowledged Landry's request. "After arriving at P0X-777 we went in search of the missing SG-19. Despite the poor weather we were able to locate what we believe was their campsite, although beyond a few scattered and damaged possessions we never found SG-19. As per our radio contact with yourself at the SGC we made the long hike to SG-25's dig site and took shelter from the weather inside the chamber they had uncovered.

"It was while we were planning our next move inside the chamber that we discovered we were not alone on '777–"

"You're saying someone else was on the planet with you? I understood SG-25's survey had found no life forms larger than small lizards?" interrupted Landry.

"Yes, Sir. We've no idea if what we encountered is native or not, although _something_ might be a better description than _someone_. I'm not sure how it found us or knew we were even there unless it saw us at the gate and followed."

"When it appeared at the entrance it seemed to test the air, perhaps it is blind and relies on smell," extrapolated Woolworth.

"Possible," agreed Motoyama from the other side of the table, causing everyone to look at him. "Although it may have paused simply because it was aware of the energy field."

"Energy field?" muttered Landry and he flipped open SG-25's most recent report on the dig site. "I see. SG-25 makes mention of a barely detectable energy field at the foot of the stairs and which covers the chamber entrance. Supposedly it is there to keep the chamber from being flooded by rainwater."

"Well, it did that, Sir," spoke Archer, "but it also had an effect on our unexpected visitor."

"Before you explain what happened, could the Major please explain what it was that you encountered?"

"I'm not sure I can, Sir," apologised Jarod.

"Visibility too poor?" Landry asked.

"No, Sir," offered Motoyama. "We even had it pinned under torchlight at one point. It's just that it was just this... _thing_."

"_Thing?_" Landry was asking for something more descriptive than _thing_.

"Vaguely humanoid, I guess," said Woolworth. "It seemed to shuffle like a human does – at least until it attacked."

"More like what I imagine being pounced on by a tiger is like at that point," added Motoyama.

"Vaguely humanoid?" Landry didn't like the ambiguities that were arising from this debriefing.

"It seemed to shift, Sir," explained Jarod. "As if it had more than one shape and couldn't settle on one, always changing. Even what I took for skin was the same."

"How so?" prodded Landry.

"At first I thought it was covered in black fur. But then that fur seemed too deep a black and too smooth to be fur. And then I thought it to be a series of dark greys and not black at all."

"So," summed up Landry, "like its shape, its colour was in flux."

The team nodded.

"Anything to add?"

"Did anyone else see it glow red before it attacked?" asked Woolworth.

The rest of GG-4 nodded at the question, Archer adding shakily, "And that roar..."

Hank was perturbed by SG-4's description of this encounter with an alien that may have dealt with the missing SG-19, and had obviously reacted aggressively with SG-4.

"What happened to it?" asked Elizabeth who up to this point had focussed solely on Jarod.

"That energy field SG-25 found," answered Motoyama. "When it lunged at us across the barrier it just seemed to dissolve into nothing."

Hank frowned. "So nothing to show the lab techies then?"

"No, Sir," replied Motoyama.

"Anything else to add to what we've already covered?" asked Landry.

"After the thing was dealt with by the energy field, I saw a spacecraft," said Woolworth.

"Any race that you'd recognise?"

"Unfortunately not, Sir."

For a moment the General sat in silence, his brow furrowed by deep thought. "So we have a new race on our hands. They quite possibly may have killed SG-19 and have acted aggressively towards you. Added to this, they may have spaceflight based on the craft that you saw, meaning that they are possibly not restricted to '777." In frustration he thumped the briefing room table with a fist. "As if we _need_ a problem on top of the Ori, Goa'uld, and Wraith."

Jarod looked to Elizabeth who smiled as warmly at him as she could. She was almost tempted to believe it would have been easier for the pair of them to remain on the run.

Landry sighed. "I'm afraid that after some downtime, SG-4, I'm going to have to order you to return to P0X-777." Landry took in the stunned expressions of SG-4 on their faces and the mounting fury on Elizabeth's. "You won't be going alone however," he added. "The SGC needs to know what we are up against, so you'll just be one of a dozen teams we'll deploy there to find answers. In the meantime you are all off duty and dismissed. I don't want to see you on base for a good week."

SG-4 shuffled out of the briefing room apart from Jarod who remained behind with Elizabeth.

"I'm hoping that such an unsettling mission straight out of the gate hasn't diminished your enthusiasm for the SGC, Major?"

"No, Sir," replied Jarod after a glance at his wife.

"Good, good. Now, Personnel assures me that your Colorado Springs home will be ready in the next day or two. Can I suggest that the pair of you spend that time until then off the base getting to know the town and decompressing? You were effectively at work shortly after arriving."

The pair nodded and were dismissed by the General who, after a long, quiet sit by himself in his chair, retired to his office for a drink before starting on several phone calls.

Pentagon

December 27th, 2005

1036 hrs

Hammond sat across the table from Davis as the pair sorted through a number of files that the Major had managed to obtain as part of their investigation into the disappearance of General O'Neill. The majority of the documented material covered the period starting with O'Neill's posting to Washington DC up to the musical chairs episode that had left the newly promoted Major General without a post or support staff. These were proving somewhat tedious and even vaguely depressing reading as sorting through O'Neill's financial transactions for that period indicated that his former second-in-command had spent his time in Washington either working, eating, sleeping, or seeing to various other necessities of life. Apart from a short weeklong break in late August prior to the job shuffle, which at this point Hammond was assuming was a trip to the cabin in Minnesota, O'Neill had simply operated as would be expected.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose in irritation George put the file in his other hand down on the tabletop and sighed. Davis looked up from his own stack of papers and gave the retired General a sympathetic look. "Nothing?" he asked of the older man.

Hammond shook his head in frustration. "The same things, day after day, week after week. If I didn't know better I'd almost believe Jack was trying to keep his nose clean and toe the line while he was in Washington."

"Why would that be a surprise?"

Hammond was about to break it to the Major that not everyone, Jack especially, was as anal about rules, regulations, and paperwork as the younger man was, when he forced himself to consider what Major Davis was suggesting.

Seeing the ex-General pause, Davis pushed on, "After all, Sir, he was promoted to head of Homeworld Security at your behest and with the backing of the President. With all that you both did for him and the rest of SG-1 over the years perhaps it isn't a stretch to believe that General O'Neill was trying his best in a position he may not have entirely liked in order to live up to your expectations of him?"

George grunted in acceptance of that suggestion. The idea of a Jack who dotted every 'i' and crossed every 't' was a world away from his memories of the Colonel who'd turn his field reports into screenplays for potential Hollywood movies. "Have you found anything, Major?" asked Hammond to change the subject slightly.

"No, Sir. From the receipts and bank statements we now have we can more accurately track his movements in the weeks leading up to his disappearance, but it doesn't tell us anything more than we already knew. There were no deviations from what we would expect; there were no odd bank transactions, and no detours to strange locations. My guess is that General O'Neill's kidnapping came as much of a surprise to the General as it did to us after the fact."

George looked back down at the printed text that swam before his eyes. "Anything from Woolsey?"

"Actually, yes."

Hammond started slightly in surprise and sat up straighter in his chair before fixing the Major with a glare. "And just when were you going to share that information with me?"

"At some point before we broke for lunch, Sir. As Woolsey is dealing with the lead I didn't believe the delay of an hour or two would have any impact on the information."

"What did Woolsey have to tell you?"

Davis picked up a page from a different pile and passed it to Hammond who scanned it briefly. "The Trust?"

"They are believed to be _involved_ in some form or other, even if it was purely the supplying of information to those who orchestrated the disappearance. Woolsey is attempting to discover just how involved they are in our issue through those contacts he has with people he knew once worked at the NID, especially those that may still have a finger in the pie, so to speak."

"Do you have a suggestion for where we should begin looking next, since I have a feeling that this paperwork isn't going to produce a lead?"

The Major sat and considered the question and what options that the small investigative team had. While Woolsey would follow up anything to do with The Trust, Davis was keen to find a link back to those involved in Homeworld Security. Someone connected to the relatively new branch of the armed forces would have been needed to orchestrate the shuffling of jobs that had led to O'Neill being without a post at the time of his kidnapping. Eventually he said, "It's not a suggestion of where to look next, but more of an issue I've thought of."

"And that is?"

"At some point we are going to have to assume that some word of us carrying out an investigation will leak and reach the ears of whoever created this mess."

George nodded, unhappy with that prospect given how little time they'd spent on the problem or how little progress they'd made. "So?"

"We need a smokescreen of some sort," explained Davis. "Something else that we can pretend to be investigating that may put others off our scent for just a little longer. That extra time may be all we need to find General O'Neill."

Hammond could see the logic in that. "Any suggestion as to what?"

Here the Major passed the ex-General a new manila folder that George opened and began to peruse. It was the filed reports of SG-4 from their recovery mission to P0X-777. Hammond realised just what the Major was suggesting as the smokescreen and fixed his eyes on Davis. "We've a new hostile race?"

"Potentially. Even if it pans out to be simply one of many similar simple minded creatures native to '777, we can use it for now to keep the waters muddied."

"_Simple minded_ and with space flight?" queried Hammond.

Davis almost rolled his eyes. "Simple logical fallacy, Sir. Just because the two were seen with minutes of each other does not render them under the same banner. The spaceship Woolworth thinks she saw might have simply been there by coincidence. Till we have further information however, it does seem to be a reasonable assumption and one that will help in our smokescreen."

"The bigger our _problem_ the less likely people will look too closely at what we're digging into," summed up George.

George returned to the folder of the events of '777 to take a more leisurely read of them than his previous skim as Davis moved to answer his ringing cellphone.

"Are you sure?" Hammond heard Davis ask the caller.

A minute or two later the call ended and George waited for the Major to make the first move, busying himself with the finer details of Major Stewart's field report. Hammond was vaguely amused to note that the Major's style of report writing was similar to that of Jack's, being filled with many small yet important details while at the same time managing to concentrate on the general narrative thrust clearly. Perhaps both had been educated in a similar writing method.

While Stewart's wasn't quite an O'Neill's blockbuster screenplay, it was at the very least a definite step up on the reports that many SGC personnel had filed with him during his tenure there. Those by Carter and Jackson especially had been a struggle to read, neither quite capable of understanding when too much information was too much information. A quick glance through the rest of the folder marked Captain Motoyama's report as a Carter/Jackson marathon bore-fest.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Major?" Hammond looked up from the report.

"That was Woolsey. He has tentative confirmation that The Trust were potentially involved and that O'Neill was planned to be bundled off to an interested party."

"Does he know who?"

"Some group going by the name of the Vespusians."


	4. Looking in All the Wrong Places

Hello... Apologies. It has been some time since I've posted a chapter for any of my stories and I can't promise when another chapter will appear. Still, hopefully somebody is still reading after all this time...

xxx

**FOUR: Looking in All the Wrong Places**

SGC

December 28th, 2005

1356 hrs

To frank with herself, not something she had always been in the past, Elizabeth had to rank the Christmas just passed as the best of her life since she'd been brutally parted from her mother. Oh, her current home consisted of a room with no windows several levels under the ground in a military installation, but since she had Jarod at her side it was not only bearable but also even a little homely. She'd enjoyed retiring to their room in the evenings for a little husband and wife alone time. Landry was promising a house off base within the next few days, but as long as she and Jarod got to spend time together Elizabeth wasn't going to push the issue. Fortunately for her, after the events of P0X-777, Landry had given Jarod's team – SG-4 – a week of downtime.

Right now however, she needed to earn _her_ keep and while Jarod spent some time in the gym she was pounding the keyboard in search of facts to present to the President about Angus. Browser open, Elizabeth brought up the login interface for the webmail that Jarod used for his various email contacts. Logging in she was impressed to see Broots had sent her information on the other Pretender as requested. She downloaded the various document and picture attachments and then finally read the email before she would send him a grudging 'thank you' and a reminder to escape the Centre himself before it swallowed him whole. What she found was disturbing.

_Miss Parker,_

_I need to warn you of what is happening here at the Centre. At first I thought perhaps your contacting of myself had been discovered, but a snatch of conversation that I overheard between Mutumbo and Raines suggested that it is something different. There is some sort of deadline that we have all been unaware of that is looming, and the missing scrolls are needed to prepare the Centre for that time._

_Since then _almost all_ Centre activity has been focussed solely on locating the scrolls and deadly force is considered the only option when dealing with anyone found with them. Madam Director even came down from the Tower to deliver this edict so you have some idea of how serious the Centre is taking things right now. I've seen her _once_ before in the ten years I've been working here!_

_Mr Lyle has been charged with hunting both you and Jarod down by any means necessary. I hope that you have a means of staying out of their sight, Miss Parker, cause he seems to be out for blood._

_This will be my last email from the Centre. I've already created new identities for my daughter and myself and, unless something goes horribly wrong, by the time you receive this we'll be on a plane to somewhere else. I can only hope that I'm half as good as Jarod at avoiding capture and that the Centre doesn't see me as valuable enough to find. I'll send an email to this webmail address once my daughter and I are safely settled._

_Hoping to live long enough for you to read this,_

_Broots_

Elizabeth sat back in her seat as she processed what Broots had dropped in her lap. The Centre was in a panic over the scrolls and some deadline Broots knew nothing more about. The former Centre child had to wonder if this deadline had been suddenly imposed because the Centre had been somehow tipped off about the in-progress Presidential investigation into the Blue Cove organisation. Were the controlling members of the Centre preparing to go to ground before the government could catch them? Quickly she tapped out an email to Major Davis alerting him to this potential leak in the investigation of the Centre and to pass on the information to the President.

That accomplished Elizabeth pondered the scrolls themselves that the Centre was obsessively focussed on. What was their true purpose? The events surrounding the recovery of the scrolls from the Scottish island Carthis had led to the revelation that the scrolls contained prophecies, one that had driven various generations of Parkers to madness and death – including the man she had once believed was her father. It seemed that if she and Jarod wanted to gain some leverage over the increasingly desperate Centre the pair would have to locate the scrolls themselves, maybe even read them. She would have to talk with Jarod.

Focussing on the small pile of attachments that Broots had supplied her with, Elizabeth clicked on the first to find she was looking at a digital copy of the photo of Angus that Jarod had shown to the President. Reaching into the manila folder on her desk Elizabeth pulled out the photo of the then recently promoted Major General O'Neill – looking as if he felt out of place in his dress blues – and held it up next to the computer monitor to compare the two.

That she was looking at a photo of the sixteen-year-old as an older man was beyond the shadow of a doubt and she could easily see why the President had freaked at the photo of the younger man. There was no mistaking the two. Taking a deeper look she was almost attempting to divine how the transition from Angus to O'Neill occurred from just the lines on the older man's face. Whatever it was, she was sure that this Pretender had lived his life, something that Jarod and herself were only just really beginning to get to grips with.

"Who are you really?" she mused. "And where are you now?"

Putting the photo down on the folder she opened the next attachment, which documented the 'acquisition' of Angus and his initial introduction to the fledgling Pretender programme. It did not differ that greatly from Jarod's experiences some six years later, by which point the Centre had already taken on five or six other children and refined the system of indoctrination further. It would be an interesting document to look through later in an attempt to follow up any leads she might uncover. But what she wanted right now was conclusive evidence to present to the President that either linked the Centre to the disappearance of General O'Neill, or absolved them of the responsibility and let the USAF focus on other avenues for finding the missing man.

The next document was more along the lines of what she had been looking for, compiling the efforts of various sweeper teams over the years to uncover the whereabouts of Angus. Not surprisingly the Centre's attempts to find the missing Pretender had waned as the years passed, becoming non-existent by the point Jarod had escaped. Obviously Jarod's departure had been the greater priority till this panic over the scrolls and deadline. Elizabeth let the cursor glide back to the top of the document and she began a systematic investigation of the leads on Angus that the sweepers had noted, pen paused over a pad of paper to take notes.

They had apparently located him as part of the US Army in Vietnam in 1973, six years after his escape and had considered attempting to extract him from the war zone too great a risk to take, especially since the Centre didn't have the political clout to either cover up any mistakes made doing so or to try the paperwork route. The Centre instead had counted on apprehending him once he'd returned to civilian life and there wasn't a military outfit to notice his absence. Yet the Pretender had slipped out of their grasp. They had come close again in 1982, which eventually turned out to be the last time that the Centre had believed they were close to locating Angus.

Elizabeth paused here and tapped her finger on the papers on the desk in front of her. Flipping open the folder she had been given on General O'Neill she scanned his service record. 1973 had him in Vietnam as part of the _Air Force_, running supply missions through enemy territory. She looked ahead to 1982 to find that after a fairly quiet career O'Neill was suddenly undertaking missions into the former Communist Bloc of the USSR. Had the Centre gotten too close for comfort in 1982? _So _close that Angus had felt the need to create a new identity in Jonathan O'Neill?

Her eyes flicked downward slightly to a surprising entry. 1984 was an important year according to O'Neill's Air Force profile, May 23rd providing a concrete date that pinned the Pretender's past down. O'Neill had married Sara Douglas on that day and further notations to the file indicated that Sara wasn't a simple shadow designed by Angus to give the O'Neill identity some substance. She was real and even interacted with SG-1 early on in the life of the team. There was even a deceased child, Charlie Tyler O'Neill, who Elizabeth might have written off as further profile building had Sara not been documented as real. The former Centre operative knew that talking to O'Neill's ex-wife would be an important starting point in evaluating the level of the Centre's interference in the Pretender's life.

Bowl-a-Rama, Colorado Springs

December 29th, 2005

1924 hrs

The roar of rolling balls and clanking machinery filled the air, only slightly noisier than the sound of a large number of people having various conversations. The bowling alley was fairly busy, but since Jarod had taken the time to book in advance he and the rest of SG-4 had harboured no concerns about obtaining a free lane.

Currently standing over Motoyama and berating him about his poor performance at ten-pin bowling, which was costing their team points, was Elizabeth. Her finger was waggling in Motoyama's face and the poor man looked terrified. Jarod couldn't help but notice how alive and beautiful she looked as she gave the dressing down. Or at least, he felt that when the dressing down wasn't directed at himself. He wryly reflected that this probably wasn't helping break the ice between him and the rest of SG-4 – Motoyama especially.

Finishing his coke Jarod wandered back to the lane and insinuated himself between his wife and Motoyama, gradually backing her into a seat and getting her to sit down. Her pretty face was marred by a scowl of epic proportions – he should have realised before inviting her along that Elizabeth would be a _touch_ competitive. Sitting next to her he pulled her into a sideways hug and kissed the crown on her head, using the arm hugging her to rub her shoulder and arm in a gesture of comfort.

"I'm overdoing it, aren't I?" sighed Elizabeth into Jarod's chest.

"A little," her husband replied, a grin gracing his face that she couldn't see. "But it is understandable. You've worked for a long time with subordinates like Sam or Willy who'd jump to your every order and now you don't have anyone to yell at. Go easy on these guys and if you're lucky, some poor SGC security staffer will stuff up next week and you can legitimately yell at them."

Elizabeth gave a weak chuckle and sat up again. She looked across to Motoyama who had studiously been looking away during the husband-wife exchange and apologised to the Captain. Though he had soothed over that clash of wills, that didn't prevent Elizabeth from giving her all to motivate her team to win. Over all, even thought they were losing to SG-4 and wife-hanger-on, SG-15 considered it an entertaining evening overall so far, _especially_ the new security consultant to the SGC. Well, entertaining as long as it wasn't them on the end of either a chewing out or a motivational speech from her.

SG-15 leader Franklin was coming off the alley having made a spare with his second bowl and Archer from SG-4 was stepping up to take his turn.

"Do you really have to return to '777?" asked Elizabeth as Archer's ball rolled towards the gutter for the eighth time that evening.

"General's orders. I'll admit I'm not keen on going back, but the SGC has to know what we're up against here. Besides, we'll be in the company of various other SG teams. We'll be safe."

She gave Jarod a tight squeeze and then let her husband go to watch Archer's second attempt. This time the bowling ball struck the pins, scattering several and leaving three in its wake.

"Well done, Archer!" congratulated Jarod at the best effort of the evening so far from the team's social anthropologist.

"Jonathan, please," said the man in question as he took a seat between Jarod and Motoyama.

Woolworth, who had been engaged in a conversation with Morcroft and comparing notes as the only female members of SG-15 and SG-4 respectively, now wandered back to her team's side of the lane and snatched up an appropriately weighted ball and considered the pins mocking her from the other end of the lane. With a huff she stepped up to the mark, paused a moment, and released the ball in one swift and clean stroke. Her fist punched into the air and she turned to reveal she was wearing a huge grin as all ten pins came crashing down.

Above her head the monitor with the score played a cutesy little graphic to join in the celebration of a strike. This cleared to reveal the stats for the team after five rounds. With Jarod and Karen on a strike at the end of the round and reasonable scores from Elizabeth and Aaron, SG-4 was ahead of SG-15 despite the poor showing from Archer. Woolworth came down to the seats and took Jarod's seat next to his wife as he stood to select a ball for his turn.

"So, how did you met Major Stewart?" she asked the other woman.

"Well..." stalled Elizabeth as she sought the right words to convey the mess that was the Centre without betraying too much information, "we've known each other since we were kids. Our parents worked together at one point."

"Oh!" Karen exclaimed in apparent delight at this revelation. "Childhood sweethearts? That's so romantic."

Elizabeth couldn't help but give Woolworth a look as if to ask if the woman had just stepped off a flying saucer. "Not quite. I admit we were friends when we were children, but we sort of drifted apart after that."

"Did he start seeking out other things to fill his time with? I bet you had to start chasing him a little just to remind him that you were there. Men can be a little obtuse at times."

The former Centre operative had a little difficulty in picturing her year-on-year pursuit of Jarod as an attempt to remind him that she was an attractive, available and _interested_ woman. Before those final betrayals by the Centre and what passed for her family, had she been allowed to she might have easily put a bullet in Jarod's head just to wipe the smirk off his face. These days she had a hard time recalling the anger and frustration that had led to thinking like that, now finding the idea of shooting Jarod an anathema to her.

"I guess," Elizabeth hedged without giving up something sensitive.

"I'm at least glad that Major Stewart has been taken off the market," admitted Karen, "since I might have just said 'sod it' to those pesky military regs and bedded him. He's a good looking man."

Elizabeth's hand crept toward the gun strapped to her inner thigh as she fought the desire to _forcefully_ remind the other woman that Jarod was _her husband_. "Thank you," she rather tightly through clenched teeth.

"Playing nice, honey?" asked the man in question as he came up behind her and laid his hand on her shoulder.

Jarod felt his wife begin to uncoil slightly at his touch and caught an apologetic look on his Lieutenant's face.

Turning to look up at her husband she gave him a blinding smile for spotting her unease and stepping in. Cleaning up the blood would have been tedious and might have put a damper of Jarod's bonding attempt with his SG unit. "Just some girl talk."

"Really?" Jarod was curious as to what exactly 'girl talk' was. Another language, a series of coded messages, a secret handshake?

Elizabeth could see that her husband now burning to know what 'girl talk' was and wondered how she could distract him from such a pursuit. So she reached up with one hand and drew him down into a kiss. As she broke the kiss and looked into Jarod's eyes she felt herself relax further and realised that the kiss was more than a simple distraction for Jarod, but a way of publicly marking him as he husband in front of Karen and any other would-be Jarod-nappers.

"Get a room," huffed Motoyama in annoyance.

"Can't," grinned Jarod as he hefted his bowling ball in his right hand, "time to bowl!"

SGC

January 2nd, 2006

1345 hrs

New Year had passed the SGC by quietly, all but essential off-world operations on hiatus till New Year. In a couple of days SG-4 was scheduled by General Landry to venture off-world once more to P0X-777, along with a number of other teams, in order to gain a better understanding of what had happened to SG-19. Given all the other threats to the Earth that had been stumbled across by the SGC over the years, both the SGC and IOC were hoping that what had happened on '777 was not the prelude to a larger problem.

Jarod along with the rest of SG-4 and a few other SG teams were currently somewhere in the forests of Colorado working through a series of potential scenarios in a training exercise. SG-4, and more importantly SG-19, had been caught off guard by whatever it was that had menaced them and Landry didn't want the same happening again. Those going to '777 were going to be prepared and would spend today and tomorrow training to ensure they came back alive.

The result of this was that Elizabeth was on her own once more and had decided that rather than mope about their quarters she would continue her pursuit of the Centre angle on the disappearance of Major General O'Neill. After a lazy lunch break she was about to get back into the groove of sifting through the materials that Broots had supplied her with, hoping to build up a coherent timeline of the life of Angus/Jonathan. She was already reasonably confident that at this stage of her investigation that the Centre was not responsible for the General's kidnapping. So far the Centre seemed to have given up searching for him by the point that her own husband made his break for freedom.

She heard her name being called as she made her way down the corridor, following the yellow line on the floor while trying not to call attention to the fact that she was doing so. She wasn't ever going to admit to Jarod that she had actually found the painted stripes useful, not after ridiculing them as a crutch for weak willed idiots.

"Yes, can I help you?" she asked when she turned to greet the person who had called her name.

The man was about her age, possibly a year or two younger, and was dressed in a black suit with matching black tie and shoes. All he needed was the sunglasses and he would pass for a 'Man in Black'.

"I'm Agent Malcom Barrett," said the man with a wide smile and outstretched hand.

"Really? How fortunate for you." Elizabeth merely folded her arms and gave the man a flat stare.

"I understand that you're the new security consultant for the SGC. I thought perhaps we could have a chat."

"In what capacity?" she asked. "You're not part of the SGC, so who do you represent?"

Malcolm coughed. "I'm with the NID."

Elizabeth's lips quickly compressed into a thin line at this revelation from Barrett.

"I can see by your expression that others have already prejudiced you against our organisation. I can tell you now that we've cleaned up our act since then."

"Forgive me if I don't leap about with excitement at that pronouncement," Ms Stewart drawled. "What can I do for you, Agent Barrett?"

"Call me Malcolm," the agent offered with another smile.

"I'll call you whatever I want to call you," Elizabeth tightly replied. "Now answer the question."

Looking about him Barrett leant in a little and asked if they could take the conversation to somewhere a little less public. Suggesting her office Elizabeth led the way, tracking the yellow line on the floor out the corner of her eye.

Once ensconced in her office she repeated her query. Malcolm focussed on the woman seated at her desk and elected to stand and pace as he worked out how to deal with the prickly consultant.

"If you're doing that so that I might appreciate your figure then you're wasting your time. I'm a happily married woman."

Malcolm almost crashed into a set of filing cabinets at that blandly stated observation. "Sorry, just working how best to talk this through."

"Perhaps if you gave me _some idea_ of what it is you want to discuss, I could tell you."

Sitting in the other chair provided by Elizabeth's office Malcolm threaded his fingers together. "I'm not completely in the loop as President Hayes is playing things close to his chest, but I know that you and your husband are simply more than who you appear to be."

An irritated sigh arose from the woman opposite him, "So this _is_ an attempt to exercise control over the pair of us by threatening to compromise out status here."

"No, no, no," babbled Barrett a little shocked as Ms Stewart calmly pulled a gun from out of a desk draw and put it almost point blank against his head.

"It doesn't take much pressure on the trigger, but I'm sure you already know that."

"Listen," growled Malcolm. "I'm not here to extort anything out of you or threaten you and your husband. I just wanted you to understand that we're good at what we do and even though the President is keeping a tight reign on this we have managed to piece some information together."

"I'm listening, unless the whole point of this conversation was for you to blow your own trumpet."

"This isn't going exactly as I planned," Malcolm said going cross-eyed looking at the barrel of the pistol.

"Then I suggest you explain yourself before I grow bored," remarked Elizabeth.

"We at the NID think that we have a lead on O'Neill."

Elizabeth blinked her eyes.

"Yes, we're aware he's gone missing. Kidnapped."

Lowering the gun, Elizabeth asked, "Why are you telling me this, why not inform Major Davis?"

"Because I wouldn't be surprised if the NID is high up Davis' list of possible suspects. I was hoping that since you _don't_ have a track record with the NID that you might be more willing to believe us."

Resting the weapon on her thigh, her hand still wrapped around the grip, Elizabeth favoured Malcolm with a wary look. "So, what is this lead then?"

"You're going to listen?"

To this Barrett simply got a nod. "Okay, good." Malcolm huffed and ran a slightly shaky hand through his hair. "Ah, we're pretty certain that whoever took O'Neill back in September was a human organisation. There were no signs of alien tech being involved in the kidnapping."

"I have Davis' report here," said Elizabeth tapping a manila folder on her desk with her free hand. "The question is how did you come by it?"

"We didn't. You have to understand that last August there were a few rumblings in the backrooms of government that we monitor that something was going to happen in Washington. No substantial leads, just a word or two here and there. We kept an eye on things, but General O'Neill wasn't even on our list of possible targets."

"Your assumptions for motivations were incorrect."

"Yeah. We covered possible motivations like extortion, kidnapping for ransom, brainwashing."

"But all those things require O'Neill to remain in place or for contact to have been made long before now by the perpetrators," observed Elizabeth.

"Which is why we now believe that the plan was to completely remove O'Neill permanently from the Washington/SGC loop."

"And this lead that you were so carefully dangling before earlier is?

Barrett stood up and took a small circuit of the office. "There is a rogue offshoot of the NID, known as The Trust. They've kept their heads down for about a year now, but our sources suggest they were involved."

"Davis has already suggested that The Trust may be involved."

"Oh."

"Is there any way to prove the involvement of The Trust?" That was something that the team in Washington had yet to achieve. If they were able to tie this group to O'Neill's kidnapping then it would remove the Centre from the picture, allowing the President to pursue the organization without fear of reprisals against O'Neill.

"That's where we could do with your help."

"My help? Surely you have all the equipment, expertise, and manpower you need to do this yourself?"

"We do," agreed Barrett, "but we don't have The Trust of the SGC or the President. Especially not after Kinsey."

"So I'm coming along essentially to vouch for your good behaviour," smirked Elizabeth.

"If you want to think of it like that, then yes."

"So," asked Elizabeth as put her gun safely away, "when do we go?"

"Tomorrow, oh-nine hundred. A car will be here to pick you up."

P0X-777

January 3rd, 2006

0803 hrs

It was still raining when SG-4, along with three other teams, arrived on P0X-777. As the telemetry had indicated the MALP remained unmolested, which meant that for now the gate was probably secure from whatever it was that had attacked SG-4 several days earlier.

As they were the original dig team, SG-25 had come along for the trip – recalled early from their holiday break – and was accompanied by marine teams SG-12 and 26.

"Sun lover's paradise, huh?" grunted SG-26 team leader McCormick.

Jarrod threw the older man a glance and could easily imagine the man as part of a Centre sweeper team given his build and disposition.

With the gate area checked and secured, SG-12 was left to keep watch on the gate and the other three teams set off in the direction of the dig site, stomping and sloshing their way through the thick mud and rain.

"I'm sure glad to be back here," complained Motoyama as he tried to make out through the wall of rain the SG-25 team member only a few feet in front of him.

"Yes, Captain, and I'm happy to be here instead of back on base with my wife," remarked Jarod with a sarcastic lilt to his voice.

"Isn't she off the base today? I heard something about working with Barrett of the NID," asked Archer.

"I swear the SGC has nothing better to do than gossip," complained Woolworth.

"She has a job of her own as you well know," replied Jarod to Archer's question. "One that requires her to liaise with the NID today."

Motoyama simply grunted in response as he kept his focus on staying in line with the rest of the group. "I wouldn't trust the NID as far as I can throw them."

"I would say that Elizabeth agrees with you," smirked Jarod, "but that doesn't change things. If she is to do the work assigned her, then today she needs to work with them."

"Perhaps we should find something else to talk about," suggested Lt. Woolworth.

"Like what?" asked Archer.

"Have any of you heard of Pez?" queried Jarod with a bright smile.

"Somebody shoot me now," grumbled Motoyama to himself as the team walked on.

Eventually the long slog through the unforgiving environment gave way to familiar terrain and at long last the entrance to the dig site came into view, a dark forbidding shape looming in the murky grey of the constant rain.

SG-25 and 26 took up places at the entrance as SG-4 flicked their torches on and made short work of the small flight of steps that led down into the chamber they had sheltered in previously. It didn't take long for them to search the room and be convinced that they were alone. After that the two teams waiting above descended to join them, SG-26 quickly making use of the remains of the fire SG-4 had made on their first visit to get a blaze going.

SG-25 and 4 both stripped off their wet weather gear and set them out in one corner to dry as SG-26 returned to the surface to acquire more firewood in order to last them for some time.

Arranging his pack as a seat, Jarod sat on it with his back to the fire and his legs outstretched. In his lap lay his weapon and he kept his eyes fixed on the entrance, lazily watching the rain hit the energy field that keep the chamber from flooding. Behind him the rest of SG-4 was helping SG-25 set out their equipment and pick up their investigation where they had left off prior to their Christmas holiday.

Keeping one ear on the conversations behind him, Jarod stared at the doorway and pondered his current position in life. He was facing a future where the Centre no longer existed, if the President kept to his word, and given that till now the Centre had defined his life as either jailer or pursuer, he had to wonder just what the future would hold for him. Elizabeth too, given that she too had been surrounded by the Centre for her entire life.

Eventually SG-26 returned with a mountain of useable material for the fire, which Jarod had kept an eye on, and they too stripped out of their wet weather gear, glad to be free of it.

McCormick came over to where Jarod sat and suggested that the Major take break from guard duty, perhaps even going as far as dragging SG-25 and the rest of SG-4 away from their study of the chamber in order to take a break and eat. That earned a smile from Jarod who obliged and soon all three teams were sitting in a circle around the fire, only McCormick and his second-in-command Captain Rafferty keeping watch on the entrance.

"No sign of that creature you saw last time, Major?" asked McCormick.

"Not yet, but then it didn't immediately seek us out when we were here last time. The same goes for SG-19."

"Let's hope it stays away for a good while yet."

Jarod's attention was then turned to Karen and SG-25 linguist Dr. Michael Horndyke who were arguing over a piece of Ancient text displayed on the datapad in Horndyke's hands. Getting up from his seat he walked over and crouched down in front of them to see, only to have Lt. Woolworth complain that he was blocking all the heat from the fire. She passed him the datapad to satisfy his curiosity and banished him back to his seat by McCormick.

According to the notes Jarod had read about SG-25's original visit to '777, this was the offending text that had started it all. It had been recovered from another world and had indicated the presence of an Ancient outpost on this one, hence the dig site to uncover it. That part was fairly clear. It was the second half of the text that Michael and Karen had been arguing over about translation. There were at least three or four different and convincing interpretations that could be made of the text, the two language geeks arguing over the two most likely translations and which was the correct one.

In what free time he'd had since joining the SGC, Jarod had taken to studying the language, absolutely fascinated by the idea of a previous race inhabiting the Earth. He was by no means an expert translator yet, but at least had a functional grasp of the language to be able to determine the differences between the four probable translations.

Horndyke had been arguing for a loose, metaphor-based translation that marked the Ancient outpost as some kind of council chamber designated as a place for settling disputes between conflicting parties. Jarod could see where Michael was going with it, but as Woolworth pointed out – if the first part of the text had pointed SG-25 directly to this location on '777 and had been taken literally, why shouldn't the rest of the text be read the same way? There was also the added fact that the chamber did not resemble the conference/council chamber discovered on Atlantis, a damning mark against such an idea given how often the Ancients reused designs.

Karen felt that a literal translation was the way to go, which meant that this chamber was supposedly the resting place for some kind of weapon that could be utilised against enemies possessing overwhelming forces or powers. Jarod thought this was vaguely likely given the large number of Ancient devices that SG-1 had come across since venturing through the stargate, especially the Ancient weapon at Dakara. Was what was supposedly here akin to that weapon in terms of destructive capabilities?

Colorado Springs

0917 hrs

The black sedan glided easily along the motorway that led away from Colorado Springs, a second following closely behind in convoy. Inside Barrett and Parker sat next to each other in the rear passenger seats, Elizabeth leaning against the door and staring out the tinted window. She looked quite at ease, but Barrett was pretty sure that if he even so much as twitched in a sinister manner he'd had a gun pointed at his temple before he could even blink.

"So how long will this already tedious journey take?" snapped Elizabeth, not at all enjoying the blank look that Barrett had carved upon his face.

"Not long," the NID agent replied.

"Good, because if this trip takes too long I'm liable to beat you to death with that awful grin of yours."

"Er," began Barrett in confusion. "What grin?"

"Do they include a free humour bypass when they give out starters kits to NID rookies?" questioned the irritated woman.

Barrett simply stared, quite unsure as to what to say or do to keep her happy long enough to escape with his skin still fitting tightly all over his body. Every mile travelled was another that convinced Barrett that his usual cloak and dagger routine was not generating the shock and awe, and subsequent pliability, which he had been hoping for. The background information he had been able to pull together about Mrs Elizabeth Stewart (and her husband) was woefully incomplete when placed side-by-side with the woman sitting next to him.

"Are we headed anywhere in particular?"

Barrett blinked at the question from his fellow passenger and decided to be a touch more generous with information in the hopes of a return on his investment. "We've reason to believe that The Trust were using a storage facility near to Colorado Springs as a base of operations from which to monitor the SGC."

"Are the SGC aware of this base of operations?" Elizabeth queried.

"No, to the best of our knowledge the SGC is unaware of its existence."

The former Centre operative speared Barrett with her eyes. "No wonder they are reluctant to trust the NID."

The NID agent swallowed. "We thought it best not to alert them to it, lest they spooked The Trust into moving somewhere we couldn't find them."

Elizabeth leaned forward at that pronouncement. "You mean to say The Trust are _still_ operating out of this facility?"

"Yes. The last confirmed chatter from the site was two days ago. I'm hoping if you come in with us we can shut them down as well as obtain the information we are looking for."

There was now feral grin on Elizabeth's face. "So I'm the reliable eye-witness that your tale is true."

Barrett nodded.

"I can live with that," conceded Elizabeth, "especially if it does pan out as you hope."

"Two minutes out," said one of the NID agents in the front seat of the vehicle.

Barrett pulled his weapon from his holster and checked it was ready.

"Are we expecting _resistance_?" purred Elizabeth as she too handled her gun in preparation.

"The Trust don't have a reputation for going quietly," answered Malcolm. "Best to come in hard and break them, than go in soft and have them escape or cause collateral damage."

Licking her lips, Elizabeth muttered, "Finally, some _real_ stress relief."

The sedan had turned onto a less maintained road, three other identical black sedans lining up behind it as they joined from the other direction. All four belted up the narrow road till they swung in to a fenced area. There was a large metal building, like a small airplane hanger and a large concrete area in front of it. The building had no window except for one small one next to what was presumably the front door. On another side of the structure was a large sliding door.

Elizabeth and Malcolm burst from their sedan, joined quickly by several agents from the other vehicles. With covering fire assembled, Malcolm led Elizabeth towards the main door. A few select agents began circling the building to cover the larger sliding door and any other potential exits that couldn't be seen from this side of the building.

It took only a matter of moments for Barrett to reach the front door and try the door handle. The building was unlocked, but just as he was pulling the door open the sound of gunfire from the far side of the building could be heard.

"Shit," cursed Barrett as he flung the door open and barrelled inside, Elizabeth following closely at his heels.

Following the short, featureless hallway led them through another door into the main room of the storage facility. The room had a high metal ceiling with the struts that held the building up visible. By the sliding door were two parked cars while the middle of the room was taken up with an impressive array of computers.

NID agents were already trying to fight their way into the room from an exit opposite Malcolm and Elizabeth, but were being fired upon by a small group of people mainly hidden in the middle of the computer suite. Some of this group turned, weapons bared, as they realised that they had enemies approaching from behind. Elizabeth fell to her left behind the cover of some large, metal barrels, pulling Barrett with her.

Barrett favoured her with an angry glower at being pulled out of the line of fire, but Elizabeth shrugged him off and crept further left behind her cover till she could catch a glimpse of those ducking behind the computers. She didn't recognise any of the faces of the reputed Trust members and lined her gun up with her first target.

With a calmness setting upon her, as her frustrations of the past few weeks bled out of her, Elizabeth pulled the trigger and managed to cleanly wing one of the shooters in the shoulder. One of the other Trust operatives saw his comrade go down and swung his head to search her out, his weapon quickly following. A second gentle squeeze of the trigger saw him go down too.

By this point Barrett and the rest of the NID agents had managed to subdue the rest of The Trust staff and were up and advancing on the computer array. The NID went to the downed Trust members and began roughly dragging the injured and dead from the room and back to the sedans parked outside. Barrett and another couple of NID agents were already at the computers and trying to understand what The Trust had been at work on.

One of the screens clearly showed the inside of the SGC – level 28 to be specific, which verified Barrett's belief that The Trust had still been spying on the SGC. At another computer, the one Malcolm was observing, an NID agent was plugging a portable external hard drive into the computer to copy the hard drive for easy later examination. The third computer simply showed a screen of 1s and 0s that seemed to run on forever without repeating. The fourth computer monitor appeared dead.

Elizabeth put her gun away and approached the computer set-up in the middle of the facility. She looked at the pile of papers stacked haphazardly next to the blank monitor and flipped open the first manila folder. The first document on top was a record of recent comings and goings at the Pentagon. With a precise flick of her forefinger, Elizabeth turned the page over to reveal the next. This was a record of the same, but for Area 51. The former Centre agent frowned, closed the folder and tossed it to the side.

The folder fell to the floor with a thump, prompting Barrett to turn and look at her. "Easy with those, Elizabeth. We'll need them to help complete our investigation."

Ignoring the NID Agent in Charge, Elizabeth dashed the next two folders to the floor and picked up the one at the bottom of the pile. She knew an old paperwork trick was to bury the important stuff in the middle of the least important materials. If nothing else, it bought the bluffer time to change tack. She opened the folder and grinned at the pile of expenses forms she was greeted with.

Tucking the folder under her arm she turned her attention to the blank monitor. A quick check under the desk indicated that the computer it was attached to was still on. With that in mind she tapped the monitor with the back of her right hand before realising that the monitor wasn't broken, merely switched off. A flick of a switch fixed this problem and within seconds the monitor was alive and its tube warming up enough to display the screen. What Elizabeth found was the unsettling sight of a countdown entering its last few seconds. She was struck by the sudden realisation that the barrels she'd taken cover behind were probably the explosives this timer was connected to.

"Out! Now!" Elizabeth shouted to Barrett and the rest of his NID goons as she raced for the exit.

It took Malcolm a moment to glance at the screen and come to the same conclusion. He was up and running with his men, the last abandoning his attempt to clone the hard drive.

Elizabeth was already sheltering behind one of the sedans as Malcolm came rushing out the front door. Mere moments later the facility was engulfed in an explosion that threw Barrett, and others too close to the building, to the ground.

When she was sure no further shrapnel was falling from the skies Elizabeth was able to move out from behind the cover of the black sedan to survey the damage. The storage facility was now a burning hunk of twisted metal, The Trust operatives having done a good job of making sure nothing was left.

After observing Barrett being helped off the group and checked by his men, Elizabeth opened the passenger door of the sedan and climbed in to make herself comfortable while she waited. She placed the folder she had liberated in her lap and opened it once more to look at the forms within. Her gut told her somewhere within the mess of expense claims for pizza takeaways would be something that would help her investigation.

P0X-777

1008 hrs

Jarod ran his hands along one wall of the chamber, only vaguely taking in the shadows cast by his hands thanks to the flickering firelight. Lt. Woolworth had finished up her meal and debate with Horndyke, and now wandered over to the Major to see what he was doing. As she approached the wall it took on a slight glow and soon a plaque was visible, covered in a screed of text.

"Woah," gasped Karen as the writing became visible. She looked to Major Stewart, "Do you have the Ancient gene?"

"Ancient gene?" repeated Jarod as he examined the writing more closely. "The ATA gene that allows us to utilise their technology?"

Woolworth nodded. "That's the one. Most member of the SGC with an active gene were assigned to the expedition to the Pegasus Galaxy."

"Makes sense, given they would have been surrounded in the technology on Atlantis." Jarod broke into a smile.

"What?"

"Just imagining an Atlantis expedition with only one or two people with the gene. They'd spend all day going from room to room in order to activate things for people. Weirdest day job imaginable."

Karen smothered a giggle. "Anyhow, that gene drain has somewhat slowed down our exploration of Ancient technology. The SGC is screening new assignees for the gene as quickly as possible, but the occurrence of the gene in humanity is statistically insignificant."

"Hence the gene therapy," murmured Jarod.

"Yeah, blasted thing didn't work for me."

"You volunteered?" asked Jarod as he turned to look at the Lieutenant.

"Of course! The chance to actually use some of the cooler stuff the Ancient left behind, who wouldn't?"

With a tilt of his head in understanding, Jarod stepped back from the wall to take in the full plaque. "Well, Lieutenant, what do you make of this?"

"Let's see... 'To those who would distort' – no, '_pervert_, the... destiny'? Arrgh!" Karen pulled out a notebook and stepped closer to the writings.

"I'll be back in a moment," Jarod said before heading back to the team sitting about the fire. He returned shortly afterwards with Michael Horndyke in tow and the wall of writing reappeared.

"Oh my," the Doctor of archaeology managed upon seeing the bank of text. "Where did this come from?" he asked Jarod.

"Seems likely I have the ATA gene," explained Jarod, quietly happy with the idea that he had something that allowed him to experience even more things in this life. "This showed up when I touched the wall."

"You didn't know you had the gene?"

"I've only been a member of the SGC for two weeks. The results of the genetic testing probably hasn't been collated yet," Jarod suggested with a shrug.

"Well, if we can have you hang around for a bit we might make some progress here," Horndyke said with a half-smile as he moved to be shoulder-to-shoulder with Woolworth.

"Progress, Karen?"

"Oodles, Michael," Woolworth replied with a little bit of bite.

Michael looked back at Jarod, "The sarcasm really means that she likes me."

Karen gave the archaeologist a blank look to which Jarod raised an eyebrow. "What do you make of this word here, _Doctor_?" Woolworth asked in order to kill the current topic of conversation.

Horndyke looked at the symbol that Woolworth was tapping with her pencil. "Ah... I think that is... '_line_'?"

"Line?" echoed Karen. "You think '_line_'? Let's see... 'This satellite of our people is the _line_ of... understanding...'"

"No, no, no!" argued Michael as he grabbed out his notebook.

Jarod took the opportunity to step away from what appeared to be a brewing academic argument. As he did so the text vanished from the wall, and Jarod found Karen grabbing him by the collar to drag him back again. "You're not going anywhere, Major. I need you here so I can settle this with Michael."

"Might I remind you, _Lieutenant_, that you probably shouldn't be manhandling your superior officer in such a manner," teased Jarod.

Woolworth flushed a brilliant pink in realisation. "Sorry, Sir."

"Apology accepted." Jarod turned to Horndyke, who had calmed down a little. "Well?"

"I only said 'line' because without any other context that is what that usually means. Karen didn't ask for me to translate it in the context of the rest of the text."

"You can come up with a better translation?" prodded Jarod.

"Of course," responded Michael in a slightly affronted tone.

"So, what do _you_ think it says?" Karen huffed as she crossed her arms, red notebook dangling open in her fingers.

Turning back to the text, Horndyke began pointing with his pencil. "'A message to those who would pervert the evolution of worlds, this outpost of the Alterans is the boundary of the accord. To pass beyond this point is to court death.'"

Michael turned back to his audience of two with a slightly smug smile.

"I still think this place is probably a weapon on some kind, akin to Dakara," Karen said, opening up a conversation after the three had digested the translation in silence.

"Hmm," Jarod hummed in vague agreement, fingers tracing the writings left so long ago on the wall. "I sense a 'but' in there somewhere..."

Karen rolled her shoulders. "Just something about the place reminds me of Doctor Jackson's notes on Heliopolis."

"Heliopolis?" He may have skim read many of the thousands of reports produced by the SGC, reading those General Landry and Daniel recommend as important in more depth, but despite recognising the name from brief mentions in some of those reports, Jarod realised that there was more to Heliopolis than just a name.

"It was something a Rosetta Stone for Doctor Jackson," explained Horndyke. "Heliopolis was the meeting place between four races – the Asgaard, the Nox, the Furlings, and the Ancients. At the time we couldn't read any of the writings on the walls, but the same text was reproduced in its most basic form as different atoms."

"I see," nodded Jarod. "By having one text he could read, the atoms, Doctor Jackson was able to translate the other languages."

Woolworth agreed, "It was apparently heavy going at first, having only Littlefield's notes as example of the languages to work from. As we found more examples of the languages we got a better handle on them, which is why people like myself ended up as a part of the SGC. Doctor Jackson didn't have the time to deal with all the grunt work of translation."

"And this reminds you of Heliopolis," Jarod began, picking up her train of thought, "because on this wall we have a text in the language of the Ancients and on the other wall... Actually, I don't recognise that script."

Karen Woolworth blinked, an action copied by Michael Horndyke. "Other wall of text, _Sir_?"

"Over there," gestured Jarod to the opposite wall of the chamber. "I saw some text on that wall when I was grabbing Michael here."

"Show me," Karen practically demanded.

She and Michael followed her commanding officer from one side of the chamber to the other. "I was reminded of Heliopolis because if you were warning off another race you wouldn't simply write it _only_ in your tongue."

"You would put it in theirs as well," agreed Michael as the trio reached a second wall of text.

"No one at the SGC has seen this script before," the archaeologist continued with a dry mouth.

The text began to fade even as Horndyke was trying to copy it down into his notebook. "Where's it going? Come back!"

Karen blinked. "It has to be like the ATA gene. Both sets of writing appear if a member of the Ancients or this other race uses the room. Major Stewart is too far away from the wall of Alteran text, so the words are switching off. I imagine if a member of this other race stood where we are now, both sets of text would be visible again."

Michael nodded in agreement as Woolworth fixed her superior officer with a gimlet eye. "We'll need you to stand by the plaque of Ancient writings till we've copied this new text down, Sir."

Jarod sighed and wandered back to the other wall, which allowed the text on both walls to reappear, resigning himself to standing around till the pair had copied the new language down to their satisfaction. To occupy himself he focussed on trying to translate the Ancient writings himself.

Colorado Springs

1017 hrs

The trip back towards the SGC had been conducted in silence.

Once Barrett had ascertained that none of The Trust operatives were still alive somewhere in the wreckage of the building, and that his own men were as well as could be, he had called in for reinforcements. Less than forty minutes later a team of black sedans and a long white truck and trailer rumbled up the dirt road in their direction. The cars and trailer disgorged a large number of additional NID agents who began sweeping the place.

"They'll pull the place apart piece by piece for any clues and then clean the mess away," Malcolm told her as he joined her by the open passenger door of their vehicle.

"Like it never happened," agreed Elizabeth as she recalled the efforts of her sweeper teams to track down and clean up after Jarod.

Leaving another of his number in charge of the site, Malcolm had clambered into the sedan and closed the door behind him. Another agent climbed behind the steering wheel and soon they were on their way back to Colorado Springs, travelling in a hush.

As the sedan reached the outskirts of the Springs, Malcolm turned from looking out the tinted window of the passenger door and fixed his gaze on the new SGC security consultant.

"Thanks," he finally said.

"For?" asked Elizabeth, a hungry grin curling her lips. "Backing you up out there or trusting that this simply wasn't an exercise in killing me? How about giving you and your team warning to escape the explosion, or," here she paused and tapped her long, painted fingernails on the manila folder in her lap, "actually saving something that _might_ prove useful?"

"All of the above?" grinned Barrett, still unsure of himself around this new SGC member.

"You're welcome," Elizabeth eventually acknowledged as the sedan pulled up at the gates of the Cheyenne Mountain complex.

Elizabeth reached for the door handle to let herself out, only to find Barrett grabbing her hand. "Explain yourself before I rip you hand off," growled the riled woman.

Barrett swallowed slowly. "I need the file," he said as Elizabeth heard the driver door open and close with a slam.

Eyes narrowing, Elizabeth leant forward towards the NID agent blocking her exit. "You can have it when I'm finished with it, not a moment sooner. Now let me go before I get angry."

The sedan door opened and the security consultant looked up to the find the NID spook who was their driver looming over her. "Ma'am," the grunt offered.

Before Barrett could spout any further meaningless platitudes to get her to hand over the file without force, he found that Elizabeth had simply skipped to the overt violence to get what she wanted. The former Centre agent had stabbed a foot to her side in a short kick, catching Barrett in the groin. Her elbow flashed out in the other direction, striking the NID agent in the doorway in the chest. Sliding the file under her other foot to keep it from _accidentally_ going anywhere, Elizabeth then dealt a back-fist to the agent's face, sending him sprawling onto the road.

As a couple of guards from the SGC came running towards the parked vehicle to investigate the disturbance, Elizabeth grabbed Malcolm by his black tie and yanked his face closer to hers. Barrett looked up into her steady eyes and blinked, trying to ignore the pain spreading from his groin as she ground her foot into the already sensitive area. "The file is mine, _Malcolm_. And if you ever want to work with me again, you better understand that I always come out on top."

Throwing him back into his seat, Elizabeth favoured the NID contact with a scowl, picked the file up from under her foot, and slid out of her seat and out of the car.

"Can we be of service, Ms. Stewart?" of the two SGC airmen asked as they surveyed the two injured NID men.

Elizabeth tidied her hair back into place with her free hand. "No, gentlemen, I think we're done here. These men have a long journey ahead of them so we should let them be on their way."

"If you say so, Ma'am," agreed the guard.

"If you'll escort be back onto the base, I'd be most grateful," Elizabeth said with an artful grin and followed the two guards to the gate without looking back.

Barrett watched on from his crumpled spot on his rear passenger seat. "Shit," he cursed when they were out of earshot. "Memo to self, don't mess with Ms. Stewart."

Elizabeth meanwhile soon found herself in one of the lifts of the SGC, taking her back down towards where her office and quarters were. Normally as a civilian she would have been housed on Level 15, but thanks to her relationship with Jarod they shared military quarters on Level 25. At Level 19, something Elizabeth recalled housed the Astrophysics labs, the doors of the lift opened to allow the entry of another member of the SGC.

After a floor of silence, the new lift passenger turned to look at the other woman in the lift. "I don't think we've been introduced, I'm Colonel Samantha Carter."

"Ah, another member of the infamous SG-1," cooed Elizabeth, still on something of a high from slapping the NID down.

"Er... that's us, me, whatever," responded Sam in a somewhat garbled manner. She narrowed her eyes and almost leant forward in her examination of the other woman. "I've the feeling that makes you our new Security Consultant, Elizabeth Stewart."

"Bravo," grinned Elizabeth.

"Daniel had some interesting things to say about you," commented Carter as the lift passed Level 21.

"Dear Doctor Jackson!" agreed Elizabeth, her smile growing broader much to Carter's discomfort. "I sure he had only the highest praise for someone like myself."

"Yeah," Sam answered with a little more sarcasm than she had intended. "Lots of _good_ things."

"As it happens, Colonel Carter, you've caught me in something of a good mood," Elizabeth said as she fingered the folder she still had with her. "I promise not savage you as badly as poor Doctor Jackson."

Sam smothered a laugh as the lift sailed down past Level 22. "Daniel almost didn't want to leave his lab after your little _encounter_ in the mess hall. We were lucky it was Christmas Day, otherwise we wouldn't have been able to coax him out without the promise of presents."

"I am delighted to know I haven't lost my edge."

"I think there is already a few around the base who think you are _all edges_," pointed out Carter.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Colonel."

"So," Sam tried in order to change the direction of the conversation to something that sounded a little less flirtatious, "what has put you in such a good mood."

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that. Some stress release of the energetic sort," Elizabeth said, pretending to fan herself with the folder.

"With the NID?" Sam pressed, somewhat incredulous that anybody could have a good time with that organisation.

Level 23 passed by.

"Oh, they're not so bad once you get to know them," Elizabeth bounced back, the grin on her face so wide it resembled a shark.

"Anything I should know?"

"Malcolm has _grabby_ hands," Elizabeth offered.

Carter mouthed Ms. Stewart's response to herself as if repeating it would bring understanding. Level 24 was now gone and the lift began to slow as Elizabeth's floor neared.

With a ping the lift halted at Level 25 and the doors slid swiftly open. Elizabeth stepped from the lift, but kept her free hand on the door to keep it open for a little longer. Elizabeth prided herself on her ability to keep secrets, but one look at the slightly lost air force officer was enough for her to _bend_ that rule. After all, Jarod had repeatedly reminded her that keeping secrets was what had allowed the Centre to control both her and Jarod's lives for so long.

"You may travel the universe through that gate of yours, Colonel Carter," Elizabeth began, fixing her steely gaze on the other woman and trying to find a way to impart something important without betraying confidences, "but if you took the time to stop and look around you, you might just find that things here on little old Earth aren't quite as simple as you believe them to be."

Carter crossed her arms anxiously. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I think you need to ask yourself just how well you knew General O'Neill." With that Elizabeth let go of the lift door and stalked off down the corridor in search of her office space.

Behind her a slightly shaken Samantha Carter hugged herself as the lift doors closed.


End file.
